No Reply
by AnimeGoddessS
Summary: A boy who doesn't know where he's going is gifted with the ability to transcend worlds. Who is he? How does he relate to our beloved KH characters? Rating for minor language.
1. Where the Lost are Often Found

_No Reply_

Author's Notes: Wow, it's been a while since I've posted on Wrote this on a whim. Takes place after Kingdom Hearts (1), but before Chain of Memories, and obviously before Kingdom Hearts 2. It's got an OC in it. Sorry 'bout that. Warnin' ya now before you shoot me down later. Hope you'll read it, despite.

Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, or any of the characters/world associated with it.

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_Chapter 1: Where the Lost Are Often Found_

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He landed on his knees.

Key sighed.

This world was not as aesthetically pleasing as the one he had previously left.

The night sky was fogged over in a sheer cloud of gray, but past it he could see a pleasant deep violet.

'Perhaps it's going to rain?' he mused silently.

He slumped down to his butt. The ground was paved with large bricks, red, brown, mahogany…An urban appeal.

The buildings weren't large, but over-exaggerated in such a way that they almost seemed cartoonish. Yellow and purple roofs were paled under the night, looming over him.

He looked around, brushing off the front of his clothes gingerly.

Clothes.

He'd have to find some new ones fast, as his current ones seemed to be very conspicuous compared to the others that wandered past him.

A woman stopped to stare at him.

"You 'aight kid?"

Her voice was thick with accent, her large painted lips moving sharply at him.

Key nodded.

"Ya sure?"

He nodded again.

"Ya foreign?"

He nodded, three times now.

"Could you…tell me where I am?"

"Hit yer head didja?"

"…No."

"Lost?"

"Wandering."

"Ah. We get a lot of your kind."

Key said nothing in reply.

"Well, kid," sighed the lady, a bit over-dramatically "This 'ere is Traverse Town, a place where the lost are oft' found."

He thanked the woman as she continued on her way. She swung her hips as sharply as she talked.

'Traverse Town, eh?'

He walked aimlessly, trying to find a building appealing enough to duck into. The road was uneven beneath him, and he found that he often stumbled.

Key sneezed.

After what seemed like miles of walking, miles of passing eerily similar buildings, miles of biting his thumb at suspicious stares, miles of trying to avoid conversing with other people, the same curvaceous woman as before stopped him again.

"You're travelin' alone, kid?"

He nodded.

"You awful young for that, aincha? How old're ya?"

He shrugged. "16." Said his voice.

"Tha's an interestin' tattoo youz got there. O'er your eye and everythin'."

He ducked his face behind his hair. It wasn't a tattoo.

"Youz too young for that too." She scoffed. "Where're your parents, boy?"

"Dead." Said his voice again.

The woman faltered for a moment.

Key felt her gaze grazing over him.

"Ya need a place to stay, kid? Jus' for da night, tho. I don' wancha takin' free room and board. I got a business to run, can't be givin' out free rooms to everyone." She seemed to be murmuring the last bit to herself.

Key nodded.

"Aight then. Youz jus' follow me. I aint gonna rob you or nothin'."

He wondered briefly why she said that.

'The crime rate must be high, here.' He concluded to himself.

"Wha's yo name kid?" she asked abruptly.

"Key." He replied politely, almost at a whisper. He cursed himself silently. He should have lied.

"Tha's a funny name. 'Specially with dat tattoo. But I mean no offense to ya, Key. My name's Anitta. Youz can just call me Ann. Or Anitta. Whatever meets yer fancy."

He nodded, and followed the woman back the way he came.

After what felt like miles of walking, miles of passing similar buildings, miles of forced awkward conversation between himself and the curvy, painted women named Anitta, they arrived.

It looked like every other building in the town.

In fact, Key could have sworn he had passed this building at least three times in the past five minutes. He shrugged it off; the similarity of the architecture was just something he'd have to get used to.

Anitta waved her hand spectacularly in front of him. Her nails were long, painted a bright almost grotesque color of red. He blinked, blinded at the magnitude of the color.

"This is it!" She pronounced happily.

Key looked up. Above the large double doors was a large neon sign, and shining in flashing yellow letters was the word 'Hotel'. It was almost enough to challenge Anitta's nails.

He followed her through the double doors.

It didn't take him long to get settled into a room.

Anitta had offered to make him dinner, but he refused.

She offered him a better room, but he refused.

She even offered to talk about his problems, but he refused.

Key often found himself refusing people. She eventually left him to his own devices, claiming that her next day would be a busy one. Key had said nothing in reply. He did not know what his next day would be like.

The room Anitta had loaned him wasn't very big, but felt large to Key as he stood in the middle of it.

It was excessively decorated; bright colors seemed to appeal to Anitta.

Everywhere he looked was red

Or yellow.

Or neon green.

Key decided that bright colors no longer appealed to his senses.

He sat on the lavish bed, the comforter curling around his legs until he stood again. He stared, walking circles around the square rug on the floor. He felt like a vulture.

Or a cat.

Cats often treaded circles around places they wanted to sleep.

'Yes' decided Key 'I'd much rather be a cat than a vulture.'

His glance caught a mirror. Despite his own distaste for mirrors, he approached it.

Unlike the other things in the room, it was very plain.

It wasn't bright.

Or lavish.

Or neon.

Or loud.

'Mirrors are the same, wherever you go.'

Key looked at himself looking into the mirror.

He was slender; but did not possess an unhealthy look to him.

His hair was brown, black streaks blending sleekly into stripes through random tufts of brunette. It was near the length of his shoulders, bangs past his eyes. He contemplated briefly how he needed to shorten it.

His eyes were best described as caramel. Not yellow, but not hazel, almost orange, but not quite.

Over his left eye was an almost tattoo looking keyhole; the same one Anitta had remarked upon earlier. It was a strange pattern, taking up nearly that whole side of his face. He didn't know how it got there, or how long it had scarred there. He didn't know what it was, so he just told himself it was what other people automatically assumed it was-- a weird keyhole tattoo.

It was black.

He didn't like it.

It made him conspicuous.

But his left eye was his best eye; the vision of his right was greatly obscured.

Key suddenly remembered why he didn't like mirrors.

Much like the person he saw in the reflection, mirrors were the same wherever he went.

He turned away, stretching his arms in a fluent motion over his head. It had been morning when he had left the last world.

Despite this, he stifled a yawn, noting that his breath tasted funny and that he needed to brush his teeth when presented the chance.

He needed to thank Anitta, as well.

Needed to find new clothes.

Change the currency of his money.

Needed to cut his hair.

Take a bath.

He yawned again, eyeing the bed with its comfortable comforter.

The phrase made him smile.

'Comfortable comforter. Comfortable comforter.'

He sat down at the edge of the mattress, sliding off his shoes, sliding out of his shirt, sliding his hands through his hair, and blinking slowly as another yawn spread his lips and made his jaw go ajar.

He needed sleep.

He crawled under the blankets after turning off the lights, and again the comforter curled around him.

'Comfortable comforter.' He mused again.

He gazed out the window.

The night sky was fogged over in a sheer cloud of gray, but past it he could see a pleasant deep violet.

* * *

Chapter Notes: It's simplistic, I know, and it's short, I know, and none of the main characters from the game have made an appearance yet, I know. See, I wrote this on a whim based off of some character I doodled up during Art History one day. My friend (Betsy, editor for most of my stories and an author of some other stories on this account as well) and I decided that the kid looked like he belonged in KH. So, I couldn't resist. I planned on bringing everyone else into the mix as well, but decided against it. Next chapter, I shall. Hopefully. If I get enough reviews, then the effort will prove worth it.

R&R, flame if you really want to (Kids these days need to let their anger out somewhere, I don't mind being the vent. XD) Constructive criticism is preferred.

Until Next time!

Sarah


	2. No One Flies Anymore

_No Reply_

Author's Notes: …No news is good news?

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Kingdom Hearts, only this story.

_Chapter 2: No One Flies Anymore_

* * *

Key's dreams were fragmented…familiar in a way he did not recognize.

He tossed and turned the whole night; the comfortable comforter ended up as a wrinkled pile at the foot of the bed, and morning sketched itself into the sky. First red, then orange, then pink…Then the pleasant violet of night faltered under the pastel-like morning.

The forceful hand of Anitta clutching his shoulder awoke Key quite rudely to the bright morning light in the colorful, bright room.

He blinked slowly, staring blankly up at her face, barely recognizing the woman without the layers of make-up.

He blinked slowly again.

"Ya alright, kid? Remember where you are?"

Key nodded as slowly as he had blinked.

"Traverse Town." He murmured, feeling the need to speak no louder than a whisper.

Anitta smiled, satisfied with his answer and busied herself by tidying up the rest of the room as she spoke.

"Now youz 'member our agreement, right Key? Thiz wuz yo' only free night in mah hotel. Youz gonna hafta look for a job or sumtin' to pay for anodder night. Or I've gots plenty to keep ya busy here, letcha earn your stay and whatnot." She folded his shirt over her arm "Youz need a shower boy, you stank. I dunno where you were before this that made ya reek so badly, but youz definitely need a shower. And a fresh change o' clothes." she added, "Dhere's some spare toofbrushes in the closet in the bathroom. You go freshen up. Can't esspect to be getin' a job smellin' like dat. I'll make us some breakfast. Whatcha waitin' for, kid? Scoot!" And with that she swiped at his feet with his own dirty shirt as if it were a cattle prod.

He sat up quickly; throwing his legs over the side of the mattress and letting his bare feet hit the cold floor. He shivered.

The bathroom was just the same as the bedroom, bright red tiles skipping randomly on the floor, a canary yellow shower curtain; the ceiling stained a lime green…

Key sighed, feeling a headache arousing among the obnoxious colors.

The water was warm. The dirt and sand washed away easily. He hadn't realized how very dirty he actually was.

He was grateful for the chance to brush his teeth.

It took him a moment to find the clothes Anitta had lain out for him, and didn't bother to question where she had found them. He slid the shirt over his head with a bit of difficulty; the fabric stuck to his damp skin at stubborn intervals. Thankfully, the shirt was not a bright, obnoxious color like everything else. It was a white T-shirt, plain and simple. She had picked out a pair of simple jeans to accompany it. He was grateful that she happened upon things that fit him. He was also grateful that he didn't end up looking like a circus clown.

He stumbled into the kitchen just as Anitta was setting the table.

"I wuz beginnin' to think ya drowned in the shower!" She exclaimed, laughing curtly as she spun around, clutching two plates piled high with eggs and bacon. It smelled burnt, and the pans behind her smoldered slightly.

"Lookit you, all shiny and clean. Your hair is a good three shades lighter than it was yesterday!"

Key smiled politely in return, shrugging slightly.

"I'm not very hungry." He murmured quickly, waving his hand slightly in front of him "But thank-you."

"Nonsense!" she protested immediately "At least have some toast before you go, dear. Can't be leavin' on an empty stomach."

The toast was not burnt.

He accepted it, but only nibbled on the edges. He was barely listening as she talked.

"Key, I jus' wantchoo to know that youz welcome here. If ya ever need a meal, or a place to brush those teef of yours… Donchoo be afraid to drop in, ya hear? What time can I expect ya back so's I can get supper ready for ya? Youz a growin' boy, you needs to eat."

Key shrugged. Anitta had a tendency to ramble, this much he was sure of.

Why was it that she felt the need to be so parental towards him?

"Well, so longs you get in before nightfall. Can be dangerous out dere, yano? I guess ya don't, seeing as ya juz got here an' all. But I s'pose it don't make no difference with dem lil critters gone."

Key glanced up from the corner of the toast.

"Critters?" he questioned.

Anitta's face brightened slightly at seeing the boy take an interest in something.

"Yup." She scoffed, crossing her arms in front of her breasts and leaning back slightly in the chair, as if proud to finally have a story to tell. " 'Dem damned critters. Like shadows, 'dey were, stalked on us like…well…like stalkin' thing tend to stalk." She nodded. "I unno what essactly dey did to the people they managed to get a hold ov…I be damned if I caint 'member what that Leon called 'em." She huffed silently for a moment, mumbling slightly under her breath. "I guess it don't matter." She concluded, shrugging sharply. "Dey gone now."

Key nodded.

"I still wancha back before nightfall, though, jus' in case. Ya hear Key? Can be dangerous fo' a kid out therr."

She started rambling again, so Key excused himself from the table.

"Good luck, kid! You 'member I'm cookin' for ya tonight!"

It was as if she was trying to guarantee his return to her.

"Thanks for breakfast, Anitta."

* * *

It wasn't that Key didn't have money.

He had plenty of it.

Just, notall in this world's currency. How suspicious would it be if he were to approach a bank, or cashier with a pocketful of doubloons, or rubies, or bills?

Key sighed, squinting in the light. He found it strange that the town was sectioned off in 'sectors'. It was something Anitta had neglected to explain to him.

All he knew was that he was in Sector 1.

Looking for a job.

And currently staring at some bizarre creature.

It was pink.

Looked almost like a stuffed animal. A teddy-bear…or kitty-cat.

As improper as it seemed, he possessed the sudden urge to flick the bouncing red ball dangling from what he could only presume was an antenna on it's head.

Traverse Town seemed to be even more ridiculous in the daylight.

He ran his hands through his brown hair, and approached the creature humbly.

Before he had the chance to ask the creature what he was aiming for, however….

"Kupo! Welcome to Traverse Town, kupo! My friends have a synthesizing shop above Cid's Accessory Shop kupo! It's perfect for all your synthesizing needs!"

Key blinked.

He hadn't the faintest idea what synthesizing was.

Or where Cid's Accessory Shop was.

The 'kupo' creature stared at him for a moment, flapping it's little purple wings fruitlessly against the wind.

"Um…are you hiring?"

"Are you a moogle? Perhaps in disguise, kupo?"

Key looked himself up and down.

"Er…I don't think so…"

"Sorry, kupo. We only hire Moogles, kupo."

"Is that what you are? A moogle?"

"Yup, kupo!"

"…So…I can't get a job anywhere unless I'm a moogle?"

"No, kupo, only at our Synthesizing shop. Kupo. Only moogles can work there, kupo."

"And why's that?"

The moogle paused, and the red ball on it's head bounced slightly.

"I'm not sure, kupo."

The two were silent. Key watched the moogle waddle in place, waiting for the boy to say something.

"What about that other Shop?"

"Cid's Accessory Shop, kupo kupo?"

"Yeah, I suppose that's it."

"I'm not sure, kupo."

"Well, could you tell me where it is?"

The moogle paused again. "Why, kupo, it's right under our Synthesizing Shop!"

Key grit his teeth slightly. This creature talked far too much for being so small.

"And that is where?"

"I'll take you, kupo! Follow me, kupo!"

Key was suddenly very thankful that the moogle's synthesizer shop did not hire anyone but other moogles.

* * *

Cid's Accessory Shop was not quite as accessorized as Key suspected an accessory shop would be.

He felt a bit awkward standing in the doorway.

The moogle had abandoned him there, with only so much as a 'Good luck, kupo kupo!' for advice to help him approach this man.

Already he was having second thoughts.

Cid, whom he could only presume was the rather intimidating looking man sitting comfortably behind the counter, cigarette in his mouth, goggles perched ontop of his slightly balding head, had a newspaper in hand.

Key couldn't read the headline.

"Um…"

"Whaddya want?" snapped the man, not looking away from the article. The cigarette flicked dangerously from the corner of his lip, orange cinders of paper fading away to little gray snowflakes that fluttered in the air momentarily before crash-landing on the counter.

Key stuttered slightly and the man grunted, folding the paper loudly, creasing it in all of the wrong places before catching the boy in a stern stare.

"I aint no babysitter. You either tell me whatcha want or get the hell out of my store."

Key opened his mouth, but all of his words were barred at his teeth. How was it that it was much easier to converse with the moogle?

"Well?" spat Cid, obviously becoming impatient with the whole ordeal.

"Are you hiring?" His said the sentence very fast, hoping that the man would mishear him and inadvertently reply 'yes'.

"No. Get out."

Cid picked his paper up again, unfolded it, and starting muttering to himself about whatever the previous article was about. He looked up upon realizing Key hadn't left, realizing that the kid was still standing (a bit stubbornly) in his doorway, blocking potential business. He sighed, exasperated.

"I said, 'no' punk. Get outta here."

But Key remained where he stood.

Cid sighed again, rubbing his eyes with his forefinger and thumb.

"Well?" he probed "What is it?"

"Know anywhere I could get a job?"

"You're just a kid, kid. Why d'you need a job?"

"So I can pay for a hotel room."

"You're just a kid, why in hell d'you need a hotel room?"

"Because that's where I'm staying."

"Bless yo' soul, punk. Don't tell me you're staying with ol' chatterbox Ann?"

Key nodded, assuming he meant Anitta.

The man rolled his eyes, mumbling incoherently into the bud of his cigarette.

The two remained silent; Key feeling that it was not an appropriate moment for conversation, Cid just stewing in the quiet, thinking.

He sighed, yet again, blowing a particularly long strand of smoke into the air.

"So…" mumbled Key, a bit awkwardly. "Do you know anyone? Hiring?"

"Yeah." He growled, burying his face into the paper again. "You can start by sweepin' out mah store. It's a friggin' mess. Broom's over there." He gestured his head to the corner by the door.

"Thank-you."

"Whatever, punk. Don't screw it up for yourself by being annoying."

Key nodded, obediently grabbing the broom and dragging it across the floor.

The dust spiraled in the air.

It reminded Key of cigarette smoke.

He started to sweep.

"So, where ya from, where ya goin', how long ya stayin'?"

Key said nothing for a moment, unsure as how to answer the question.

"I'm from some place, I'm going places, and I'll leave when the time is right."

Cid shrugged. "Fine, don't tell me." He scoffed, and lit up another cigarette.

Key stayed shamefully silent. They were all questions he didn't know the answer to.

The accessory store was interesting and appealed to Key more and more once he started to explore it (while cleaning every nook and cranny he could manage along the way. Cid hadn't exaggerated. It was a "friggin' mess"). He found that there were books tucked (or hidden by Cid, Key presumed) away behind strange ornaments, strange potions, strange everything.

As usual, everything in this world was completely foreign to him.

But he couldn't hide his fascination.

Cid thumbed at a page of his newspaper, not really listening.

Key glanced around, deciding to break the silence that had fallen over them "All you do is sell accessories?"

Cid nodded, grunting what could have been a 'yes'.

"Then why do you have all these books on ships? Do you sell parts as well?"

Cid blinked heavily, and looked up to the boy.

Key had the stack of books balanced in his arms.

They were dusty.

Neglected.

Forgotten.

Cid shrugged. "I got outta that business a while ago, punk."

"Did they fly?"

"What the hell ya talkin' about?"

"These ships. Did you make them? Did they fly?"

"Of course they flew!"

The man practically yelled as if outraged anyone would dare suggest such a preposterous idea.

"Tch." The cigarette jumped and ashes flicked off "My ships not flyin'…the hell is wrong with you?"

Key set the books down on the counter by Cid, blowing the dust off them. They both coughed slightly.

"Do people not fly around here anymore?"

"Nope. No one flies anymore."

"Oh…"

Cid looked at the boy again. He looked almost sad. Key tapped the cover of the top book gently with his finger.

"Yup." Said Cid, stretching his arms over his head, stretching his legs out. His feet hit the counter. "Depressing, aint it?"

Key didn't know how to reply.

So he didn't.

* * *

Cid let Key leave right as twilight broke over the sky.

'I expect ya back here tomorrow, punk. I can pay ya before the week is out.'

"I'm back."

Anitta met Key at the door.

"Welcome home! I made ya some dinner! I hope yas like it. Didja find a job? Nice boss? Good workin' hours? Glad to see the let ya out befo' dark, I wuz almost worried 'bout ya. Donchoo worry 'bout the rent, yous can pay it once the week is out." She said this all very fast. "Now youz help yo'self to the food in the kitchen, a group of awfully demandin' people are stayin' deh night, and I gots to get everythin' situated."

Key nodded, as Anitta rushed off to tend her duties.

He froze for a second.

"She said, 'welcome home'?"

After he had finished eating.

Finished taking a shower.

Brushed his teeth.

He sat in his room, staring out the window.

The stars flickered.

He couldn't help but think back on Cid's lost profession.

"Flying ships, eh?"

He shrugged, deciding that it need not concern him.

He'd be leaving this world, soon enough.

He gazed out the window.

The night sky was fogged over in a sheer cloud of gray, but past it he could see a pleasant deep violet.

* * *

Chapter Notes: See? I introduced Cid, AND a Kupo. XD I still have no idea where this plot is going, so please, bear with me if it takes a while for updated chapters. I've decided to stick with this simplistic style, instead of developing it into something more flowy and mature. For two reasons, actually: 1) It's much easier to write like this, and I don't have to put in as much description. 2) I think it portrays the tone of Kingdom Hearts well. I'm afraid if I get too carried away, it won't seem like the same world.

(sighs) Okay. XD I'll try and toss in some more action next time around.

Thanks to all the people who were kind enough to leave a review last chapter! I really appreciate it!

Read and Review!


	3. The Smell of Rain

_No Reply_

Author's Notes: I want to apologize for taking so long to update. Truthfully, I was in the hospital having surgery done; nothing major, just scoliosis surgery (spinal fusion) The surgery went fine, but I found I couldn't get to the computer for a while XD Sorry!

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Kingdom Hearts, only this story.

_Chapter 3: The Smell of Rain_

* * *

The morning sky was gray, and cried heavy tears onto the horizon in hopes of sympathy.

Key rolled over in the bed, pulling the covers over his head in an attempt to go back to sleep.

He could hear the steady patter of rain hitting his window.

It was morning again.

The darkness of night had never lifted from the room.

He sighed, wondering the time, nuzzling his face deeper into the pillow.

He did not feel like waking up.

He did not feel like exerting the effort to get out of bed.

He sighed, a sleepy yawn fumbling through his lips.

It was going to be one of those days.

* * *

He glanced around the kitchen as he slumped his feet lazily against the tiled floor, surprised to find that Anitta was not there.

"Perhaps, she is not awake yet?"

He didn't bother flipping on the light.

He decided he wasn't hungry, and sat down at the table empty-handed. Elbows on the rough wooden surface, and his own chin resting in his cradled hands, Key let his eyelids flirt across his eyes in the thought of sleep. He listened to the rain purr as it hit the ground outside.

'This place is not as horrible as I thought it would be.'

Compared to other worlds he had been to, this was one of the nicer ones, even if it wasn't as appealing to the eye. He had been welcomed and ultimately 'accepted' immediatley. The people were kind. He felt…

'Content.'

It was a strange feeling, he decided, and yawned widely.

His gaze swiped across the clock.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

Time.

Time was exactly the same in every world. While there were variations of hour, day, night, year…None of it withdrew from the fact that time existed; time was constantly flowing, constantly being wasted.

'Is it a waste to stay here?'

He shook the thoughts away as he felt his body lean forward as if in an attempt to lull him back into dreams.

He heard Anitta's familiar footsteps gallop down the stairs as a small grumble of thunder growled from the clouds.

She appeared in the doorway opposite of him, her presence casting an amusing shadow behind her. She was wearing a neon pink bathrobe; it nearly glowed in the dark. Her long blonde hair was held loosely into a bun at the nape of her neck with a toothbrush. She stumbled slightly and gasped as she saw him.

"Key! You gave me a fright sittin' derre in the dark like that. Whatsa matter, you want some breakfast? Getin' ready to leave for work?"

He nodded.

"Youz alright boy? You seem a bit outta it this mornin'."

Key shrugged. "I'm fine."

And again it hit him, a distant thought fluttering through his brain in a familiar instant of luminance. He hated when people asked him questions, it was too often that he did not know the answer.

His eyes grazed the clock again.

"Actually, breakfast sounds wonderful."

Anitta grinned widely, tightening the sash on her robe as she immediately started to wander around the kitchen. She flipped the light-switch up, and the room was instantly drowned in the brightness.

"Now…what does Key like to eat?"

He knew she didn't expect him to answer.

So he didn't.

She started to complain about the Hotel's most recent residence.

They were too commanding.

Too bossy.

Rude.

Inconsiderate.

Key stopped listening after that.

He yawned again, listening to Anitta fumble clumsily around the kitchen. He suspected she was more tired than she was letting on, or else she didn't know her own kitchen very well.

"Didn' think it was gonna rain today." She finally mumbled, leaning over Key to set a glass full of orange juice in front of him. He stared at it absentmindedly.

"It smelt like rain last night." He replied finally. It didn't occur to him how odd it sounded. He dipped his pointer finger into the orange juice and swirled it around curiously, like a kid might. It foamed slightly and he wondered what the hell he was doing.

He shook off his finger hastily, sucking away the stickiness with disregard before gulping down the juice frantically. It tasted tangy. It tasted sweet. It enveloped his taste buds as he remembered how much he liked orange juice.

Anitta chuckled slightly snatching the glass away instantly.

"Thirsty, eh?"

Key nodded, slouching lazily into the frame of the chair, his arms draping over the back until the hard hand of the curvy Anitta slammed unsuspectingly into his forehead.

"Sit up straight, boy." She scoffed, an amused look crossing her face as he reluctantly obeyed her request. He sighed, but only to squelch the need to yawn.

"What essactly does rain smell lyke, Key?"

He looked at the woman for a moment. She didn't look at him, rather out the window, almost longingly. Nostalgia. It was a feeling he was unfamiliar with. He wondered what she was thinking, what she wanted to know about the rain, why it made her look so sad. Anitta was lost in memories when he finally decided to answer.

Key bit his lip for a moment, thinking of ways to describe a smell.

"It smells…wet. Almost like mud, I guess. The air is heavy, almost rusted. It tastes metallic, but not like the bitter metallic taste of blood. It's more refreshing." His eyes stayed locked onto the woman. Her gaze never averted from the windowpane.

She giggled suddenly, as if his words had just then entered her consciousness.

"Youz a strange kid, Key."

He blinked.

Was it supposed to be an insult?

He felt his ears burning at her words, a wrenching embarrassed flush crossing his cheeks.

"But I wouldn' haff it any udder way."

Anitta flicked a reassuring smile over her shoulder before returning to preparing his breakfast.

It burned.

But Key ate it anyway.

* * *

Key sat with his back pressed hard against the door of Cid's shop and under the cover of the roof that overshadowed him. He listened to the rain. He knew the store wouldn't be open (it was far too early, the sun had not even risen) but he gave no care just the same. Cigarette buds littered the ground, like little decapitated bodies that had once belonged to smoldering soldiers. He pushed his feet forward, his toes curling in the rain underneath his shoes.

Truthfully, he had no where else to go.

He looked up; his caramel eyes fixed on the sky. The sky was not violet, as it was usually, but the gray fog seemed absent. Instead it was blue. Brakish-blackish-blue. He couldn't see the stars, but he suspected that twilight had chased them away. He saw only the fleeting raindrops collapsing to the ground.

Stars.

He wondered if all the worlds he had jumped to existed under the same sky.

Like mirrors, himself, and time…was the sky also the same wherever he traveled? Was it raining in other worlds now, as well?

He buried his fingers in his hair, and tried to occupy his thoughts with something other than questions, but the uncertainty remained. He itched at his scalp. The gesture was soothing.

He began to watch as lights began to flicker on in other homes and buildings.

People were waking up.

He smiled lightly, sitting on his knees.

He then realized that this was a stupid thing to do, because his wet feet pressed right up against his butt. He quickly changed sitting postions, crossing his legs in front of him. But his butt was damp nonetheless.

There was a sudden jerk in his gut.

"Who are you?"

Key snapped his gaze up not moving his head, the back of his skull pressed against the wooden door. He found that a tall man hovering over him.

He thought it was Cid, at first, but he was dreadfully mistaken.

The man blinked, crossing his arms over his chest.

He was tall, a good six inches taller than himself. Long brown hair fell over his shoulders; a slightly disheveled look present in the tufts of brunette. His frame suggested strength. Whoever this man was, it was obvious he was a fighter. Across his handsome face was a scar, connecting from the tip of his eyebrow, across the bridge of his nose, and to the top half of the cheek opposite.

Key blinked slowly, his lips parted as if his voice were trying to convince him to say something. The man scoffed, taking a spot on the wall next to the boy. He didn't sit, but leaned lazily against it. It was obvious that he was still waiting for an answer.

"Key." He finally replied, looking up curiously at the man. He felt the man's stare fix instantly on the keyhole tattoo.

And for a second he felt ashamed of it. He hated it. He jerked his head stiffly so that hair fell in front of that eye. It was a tantrum-like movement.

The man shrugged.

"Sorry." He mumbled. His voice was deep, but did not sound as intense as he had anticipated. "I have a big gaping scar across my face, I should know how it feels."

Key said nothing in reply. He did nothing in reply. Key merely sat, his wet feet pressing numbly into the back of his pants as he wished silently to disappear from the awkward situation.

The man readjusted his arms, holding a gloved hand out for the boy to grasp.

"I'm Leon."

Key shook his hand out of mere politeness and remained silent.

The sun streamed in little strands of golden hair between the rain clouds, but made no other effort to signal the morning. Drizzling disappointment echoed in the puddles. The gloom and rain would stain the day.

The man called Leon shifted uncomfortably, glancing around as if expecting something or someone. His mouth worked into a small frown of impatience and Key sighed.

"I've never seen you around." Said Leon pointedly, as if he were suddenly suspicious of something.

Key shrugged; what was he supposed to say?

'Sorry, I just jumped to this world the other day, and truthfully, I haven't seen the whole town yet!'

He decided against it, and shrugged again.

"Yeah, I get it." Murmured Leon. "It's none of my business."

There was another moment of silence.

"Waiting for Cid?" Asked Leon.

Apparently he held distaste for the silence.

Key nodded. "I work here." He mumbled reluctantly. He didn't look up, and kept his gaze straight forward, looking for anything familiar to excuse himself for.

Leon grunted, sounding a bit surprised.

Or aggravated.

Key couldn't decipher.

"Really now? " he said. Again his voice was bland; the comment was mere politeness. "What do you do?"

"I sweep. And clean."

"That's it?"

Key shrugged, hesitating again to tell the man he had only worked there for a day. "Pretty much. What about you?"

"I don't work here."

"I suspected that."

"I need to talk to Cid."

Key shrugged becoming bored with the conversation. "Well I don't know where he is."

"I figured you didn't."

Key stayed silent, his hands twitching absently in his lap. Come to think of it, Key was not even aware what time Cid opened shop. He glanced around nervously.

They had run out of things to talk about, yet Leon still persisted to keep the thread of conversation going out of pure decency.

Or out of boredom.

"How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

Key felt the word hiss between his teeth.

"How long have you lived in Traverse town?"

Key paused. "Two days."

Leon raised an eyebrow at this reply, and his interest in the boy seemed to suddenly change.

For the worse, in Key's opinion.

"Is that so?" he mused flicking his gaze across the boy again. His tone of voice didn't change, and this intimidated Key immensely.

"And where did you say you were from?"

Key inhaled deeply, silently.

"Some town. You probably wouldn't know it."

It wasn't a lie.

But it wasn't exactly the truth.

Leon nodded stiffly. "You're probably right."

This time, Key concluded, it _was _aggravation.

But how else could he respond?

'I'm from some other world. I'm not exactly sure which.'

No.

He had learned early on in his travels that people mistook his tales of 'World Jumping' for insanity.

He knew he sounded snappy and ignorant.

They reverted to silence.

* * *

It seemed like hours before Cid arrived, and when he did Leon immediately pulled him aside.

Cid grunted in response, removing the jacket he had pulled over his head to keep himself from getting wet. He told Leon to wait until they were inside, and his keys jingled noisily in his numb cold fingers. The door opened when he gave it a shove squeaking in protest like it wanted to sleep just a bit longer.

Key found that he was feeling nervous; as if some judgement on his character would soon come to pass. He stood, and couldn't be more aware of the giant wet-spot on the butt of his jeans. He made sure he was last to walk through the door.

They were all glad to finally have escaped the rain; Leon and Key more so than the only slightly damp Cid.

Cid lit up a cigarette, and the match flittered fleetingly for a moment before he shook the flame away with a twitch of a finger. He caught Key in a stare that needed no words, and jerked his head in the direction of the broom. The boy followed the command that was implied.

Cid situated himself behind the counter and Leon against the wall beside him to pursue conversation.

"Whatchoo need today, Leon?" asked Cid heavily, wiping his nose as the orange rim of his cigarette danced the white path closer to his mouth. He took a drag. "Find out anythin' new?"

Leon shook his head, but murmured quickly in response. "What do you know about that new kid you hired?"

"Not even his name, why?"

Leon shrugged speaking quietly. "I think he may be from another world." The last part of the sentence ended in a whisper.

Cid snapped his gaze over the boy from across the room, and returned it unfazed back to Leon. "What makes you so sure? Is that even friggin' possible?"

Leon blinked. He wasn't sure it was possible.

"Cid, he won't give a straight answer on where he's from."

"And that automatically makes him from another world?"

"He won't give a straight answer on anything." He protested.

Cid shook his head scoffing, smoke billowed away from his mouth. "Neither would you, if asked. Look Leon, all I know about the kid is that he's staying with Ann. This is the fourth time in the last two months that you've speculated people merging here from other worlds, but I just don't think it's possible anymore. I mean, you've been researching and working on building this new ship ever since Sora sealed the connections and so far you've got nothing. As much as I'd like to believe you Leon, it all just seems very unlikely. So the kid is shy; it doesn't mean he's from somewhere else."

The sound of sweeping stopped, as did the subtle sound of heated whispers.

"I'm done." Said Key.

They knew. Well, Leon knew. Was that a good thing? Should he tell them?

Cid nodded as if in answer and ushered him over. Key said nothing as his boss instructed him in other chores. Deliveries, cleaning…

Leon left soon after.

* * *

Chapter Notes: I really REALLY planned on writing more, but I felt a strong urge to update and this seemed like the perfect stopping place. Look! It's Leon! Let's all pretend that him and his crew (Aerith, Yuffie, Cloud…) all ended up back in Traverse Town and not Hallow's Bastion, neh? Because I'm pretty sure that's where they ended up at the end of Kingdom Hearts, and I don't want them there XD; So for simplicity's sake…please bare with me . ;

Special thanks to Sumi for encouraging me and helping me and stuff! I really appreciate it.

Also, thanks to all the people who reviewed last chapter! You're the ones who keep this story going, so if you like it, please let me know! If there's something that confuses you, let me know! If there's something about my writing that's just bugging the crap out of you, let me know! This story is very experimental for me as far as the writing style goes, so your opinions and critiques really matter to me!

Also, Happy Holidays everyone! I hope you all have a joyful December!


	4. In hindsight

_No Reply_

Author's Notes: (gurgles) Alright! Huzzah for relatively quick updates! Happy Holidays everyone!

Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, or any of the characters and worlds affiliated with it. I do own, however, the original concepts, thoughts, and ideas put into this story. So HA!

_Chapter 4: In Hindsight_

* * *

A murky gray sky hovered close to the ground, the buildings standing as if they were towering castles above the clouds, and the rain cried painful pleas as it collided on the pavement.

In hindsight, delivering packages through Traverse Town would have probably been much easier to accomplish if he actually knew where he was going.

Typically, Key wouldn't mind such a task. It would provide and excellent opportunity to explore, and become accustomed to the other people and his new surroundings.

But it was raining. And the boxes were mildly heavy.

He sighed, readjusting the boxes in his arms. The cardboard felt oddly spongy against his already wet skin. He was, however, glad that the rain had reduced to naught but fleeting drizzle as the day had progressed. Despite this, an overwhelming gloom still loomed over the town. It did not feel like day at all with such an obvious lack of sunshine.

Key sighed again, blinking drops of water away from his eyelashes as he set the boxes down. His stomach immediately grumbled in protest, reminding him it was past noon. He mumbled nonsense back to it, and sat on the largest box against his better judgement. It crumpled slightly under his weight, and he presumed lazily that no harm would come to the item inside. He yawned, regretting taking such an early start to the day, stretching his arms in an almost cat-like manor above his head and tickling the thick humid air with his long fingers.

He felt oddly exposed, feeling the wind brush against his arms and across his torso. He shivered at the pleasant chill.

He felt oddly exposed, knowing that Leon knew the truth.

True, Cid was still skeptical. He thanked the man silently for his stubbornness.

But he couldn't help but wonder how would they have reacted if he stepped out and told them:

'I can jump worlds pretty much at will.'

Somehow, he didn't think they'd react calmly. Leon seemed somewhat obsessed with the concept of other-worldly travel.

And what about Anitta? Did she even know about the existence of other worlds?

The whole situation gave him a headache, made him sick to his stomach.

He had not been careful enough in this world; and it was a mistake he didn't make often.

Usually his name was something commonplace; something he'd overhear someone calling someone else.

His past alibis included being Will, Stephen, Tristan…A false identity was easy enough to pass off.

His age was something he would usually let people guess, if conversation ever got that far.

His history was whatever fumbled away from his lips at the time.

But no.

In this world he lacked conviction.

He was too friendly to the strangers in this world.

He was too eager to relate to them.

He was too stupid, and spoke too hastily.

So hastily, in fact, he accidentally spat the truth. And by that time it was too late for him to blend inconspicuously into the background, too late for him to retract his words.

He sighed heavily again.

Not that it mattered. If he left before he could be confronted he wouldn't have to worry about any of it. He wouldn't have to worry.

He kicked his foot out at nothing particular.

He would stay one more night, he concluded, for Anitta's sake. Then, leave her with whatever currency he had in his pocket. She had been too kind, and did not even resent him for not telling her a thing about himself, aside from his name and age. She had not been quick to judge, and welcomed him into her life with open arms.

He couldn't place the lead feeling in his gut when he thought of leaving her with no explanation.

Guilt was something he had never really experienced before.

He shooed the thoughts away with a solid shake of the head.

Key tapped his foot, minding himself that he was currently on job. He glanced at the remaining boxes. He could just…leave them. Surely someone would come across them and deliver them to their rightful places. He scoffed at himself. His work ethic was dying off, and he was becoming a lazy blob.

He read the addresses with more concentration than they deserved. The words jumbled in his brain, letters not forming words but rather personal insults that reminded him how very lost he really was. His eyes widened slightly.

One of the addresses was Anitta's.

He sure as hell knew where that was.

Relief swept over him in a wave of warmth.

Once he was there, he could simply just ask her for the directions to the remaining places.

He clapped his hands as if declaring a genius plan, and stood.

'_It is always more sad to leave a pleasant place, and more joyous to leave a dreadful one. Sometimes I wish all places were dreadful, and all people were unpleasant.'_

He stayed still for a moment not saying anything, his palms still clasped in each other.

He hoisted the boxes back into his arms.

"It's an awful dreary day for deliveries isn't it?"

Key glanced around quickly to place the unfamiliar voice. It was soft, sweet… And matched well with the face he caught in his stare.

Beside the before-oblivious Key stood a woman, clothed in a delicate dress that hung modestly at her frame, it was a dull shade of pink that was somehow appealing to the eye. Dark auburn hair fell rebelliously around her face, and she grasped in her hands an umbrella. He suspected she had not been standing there long.

She smiled kindly at him as he returned a shrug.

"Good a day as any…" he mumbled quickly.

"I suppose it is." She sighed. He felt humbled at her presence. "I do wish the sun was out, though."

Key could only shrug another reply.

The woman spoke again only as he started to walk away.

"Who are you looking for?"

Key turned slowly to look at her; she stood there as if she had not a care in the world, smiling at him with such sincerity he almost thought she really cared. He tapped his finger lightly on the wet cardboard cocking his head slightly to the side.

"What?"

She pointed to the boxes. "Who are you looking for?"

"Oh! Um…I'm not really sure." He didn't know why the question startled him, or why he felt so stupid for thinking she met something else entirely. On either account, his response was the complete truth.

He blinked as she approached, pulling down her umbrella and taking closer inspection on the boxes.

"I know where that is." She admitted happily.

And Key was grateful.

* * *

She led him to the remaining customers, save Anitta. He assured her he could make it there on his own. 

The rain started up again as they left the last house.

She twirled the bloomed umbrella around her head as they walked. It reminded Key of a merry-go-round.

"My name is Aerith, by the way." She spun the umbrella more quickly. "And I can only presume that you are Key?"

Key nodded, unfazed. This was, he discovered, a very small town. People were bound to talk.

"Yes." She sighed "Leon told me about you."

This time, Key did not remain unfazed.

"Did he?" was all he managed to stutter.

"Yes, he tells me that you are working for Cid. Quite the courageous task, I might add." She giggled slightly at this.

Key said nothing.

"He also tells me that you are staying with Anitta over at the Hotel."

He nodded obediently.

"I don't mean to sound imposing…" At this Aerith stopped walking. Stopped twirling her umbrella playfully in the rain. Halted her voice to a mere whisper as she completed her sentence. "But where are your parents?"

"Dead." He spat immediately.

She nodded. "I'm sorry."

And he felt bad for not telling the truth.

He felt bad for not knowing it.

"Don't be."

She nodded again, and held out her umbrella for him to stand under. He shook his head, and mumbled lamely as he tucked the last little box under his arm:

"I need to get this to Anitta."

This time she let him leave without saying a word.

* * *

Key approached the hotel at almost a tiptoe, snaking through the door quietly. For no reason other than not to disturb anyone. He glanced around. 

Anitta was not at the front desk like she typically was.

He stood for a moment, pondering.

The kitchen.

She practically lived in the kitchen.

'Not that you would know by eating her food.'

And he automatically scolded himself and shuffled through the hallway. His stomach grumbled, and he reckoned even burnt food would taste good right about now.

He heard Anitta's voice as he cracked the door open. He froze.

"I always thoughchoo din't lyke coffee Leon." She chuckled slightly, apparent by the look on his face, he still didn't. "Now, what iz eet you wanna talk to me about? 'Cuz youz usually don come to visit me. Why tehday of all days? Couldna waited till the weekend? Or a sunny day?"

Leon poked his thumb through the handle of the coffee cup.

"Yeah…Sorry." He grumbled, sounding a bit guilty. "But I'm really here to ask you about the boy currently staying with you. Key, is it?"

Anitta nodded, then clicked her tongue "He aint in trouble is he? He doesn' seem the type to. He pretty much minds his own."

Key smiled slightly.

Leon shook his head, taking a sip of coffee again. He set the cup down as quickly as he had picked it up.

"Then whatsa matta?"

Leon sighed, looking particularly distraught.

"What do you know about him?"

"He a good kid. Got his head in da right place."

"Anything else?"

"Why you need to know?"

Leon shrugged, and Anitta scoffed.

"Look, Leon. He be a nice boy, youz don' need to be mixin' him up with all the stuff you got that other kid into. He was a good kid too, and I aint neva seen 'im again. That aint fair, he wuz jussa kid, and you went and sent 'im off to do stuff he wuddn't ready ta do."

"So, Key's from another world?"

"It's obvious aint it? Listen, I dun know how he got here, or where essactly he came from, but it obvious he's confused right now. He don' need any udder worries right now."

Leon nodded, but his voice still persisted.

"You have no idea how he got here? Where did you even meet him?"

"Right therr in firs' district. He lookd' awful confoosed and didn't know where he was or nuttin'. He seemed jus' as clueless as you an' me."

"You've never asked him?"

She shrugged, getting noisily up from the table.

"No, Leon, I didn' ask 'im."

And the tone of her voice signaled the drop of the subject. Leon took another sip of his coffee, taking his time as Anitta busied herself with dishes at the sink. She hummed heavily.

'So…it's not so peculiar than?'

And for a moment, Key felt hope.

Then…

'No…It IS peculiar.'

Cid had said it was impossible.

And Leon obviously could not do the same.

But at one point…

Had they too been able to cross to other worlds? He thought of the flying ships Cid had talked about. How they didn't fly anymore.

Was it possible that there were other people living the same nomadic existence as he?

If so…what were the chances of…meeting them? If high, was there an equal chance of…?

He shook his head again. He was being irrational, jumping to conclusions. This was the first place he'd been to where such discussion had ever taken place.

This was the first time he had ever really listened.

He stood behind that door, hiding, as Anitta and Leon kept company in silence. His fingers clutching hard into the corners of the box, he leaned his back onto the wooden walls, painted bright white by Anitta. He never suspected a color such as white could be bright.

Should he tell them?

Admit out loud the truth that all around seemed to be spreading?

He could deny it; fake amnesia and disappear without a word. Cut all attachments with these people.

He hugged the package closer to his chest. He had never owned a teddy bear, but he suspected this was the kind of comfort it was supposed to bring. He heard their voices speak up again, but they were lost amongst the echoes of his own thoughts.

Should he run?

Could he?

He tried to take a step forward, but the lead feeling in his gut weighed him down.

He couldn't move.

Couldn't run.

Couldn't get away from them. He clenched his eyes shut, focusing in on the voices.

"Thanks fo' stoppin' bah, Leon. It really wuz good ter see ya again."

There was a clatter of dishes. Coffee cups in the sink.

"Thanks for the coffee."

"You don' even lyke coffee."

More clatter of dishes. The sound of water running through old pipes. Against the windows, the sound of rain.

"I'm sorry, Anitta."

"S'okay Leon. You're jus' doin' all youz can to find dem again, aincha?"

There was silence.

"I should go."

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor. Footsteps.

"Seeya later, Leon." Water splashing, a faucet being shut off.

Footsteps approached him. Heavy, confident footsteps that made the floorboards creak and wail as they approached him.

Key felt the door opening behind him. He rolled onto the wall as not to be squashed, still clutching the package to his chest.

Leon looked at him. Stopped walking. Key could tell he wanted to say something, but instead he just stared. Their eyes locked into each other. He nodded in acknowledgement toward the boy, and stuck his hands in his pockets.

The heavy footsteps resumed.

For a second, Key was lost.

* * *

He waited until Leon was completely out the door before diving into the kitchen. Anitta turned immediately, hearing him stumble behind her. 

"Key! Boy youz gave me a startle, you did."

He nodded an apology, tossing the crumpled box onto the table and slumping immediately into the chair.

"Cid told me to give this to you."

She smiled, snatching the package off of the table and tearing the paper away, shredding the box open.

"It's dat udder master key I ordered!"

Strange, that she would be so excited over such a thing.

She looked up at Key.

He slouched forward, his chin in his palm, watching her. He tried to mimic her smile.

She bit her lip. Then dropped all trash to the floor.

"Key, whai donchoo hold onter dis for meh? Jus' fo' now, till I can find a safe place for eet."

He blinked, and she held it out for him to grasp. He took it, gingerly.

It was heavier than he expected. How could such a minute thing be so heavy? It was cold.

"Thank you."

"Iz jus' a key, Key." She snickered. "Heh, get it?" she coughed a bit.

Key slid it into his pocket.

"I'm hungry."

Anitta spun around so fast to look at him, Key thought she would break her neck.

She smiled brightly, gleaming. Her eyes wrinkled into her cheeks.

"Fer what?"

"Um…" He shrugged. He usually just ate whatever someone gave him.

"We got eggz, sammiches…soup? S'a good day fer soup."

"Soup, then."

"Ya sure? I'll make ya a sammich too."

Key nodded.

Key would never forget how happily she hummed as she glided around the kitchen that day.

It's hard to burn soup and sandwhiches.

And he never did make it back to work.

* * *

It wasn't until later that night that the rain finally stopped. 

Key glanced out of the window of 'his' room.

It wasn't really his. But Anitta had become accustomed to calling it that within the past three days.

He folded the white tee-shirt she had leant him, and slid into his own jacket.

It smelt leathery from the belts and buckles.

And the zippers looked almost rusty.

Its once bright color now a faded grayish blue.

It felt…

Uncomfortable?

He adjusted his shoulders so that the fabric fit more snugly.

He slid out of it again, the sleeves crumpling at his hands.

His normal dull clothes seemed so very out of place in this bright room.

Key flopped onto the bed, back first, inhaling deeply the scent of this place. The comforter curled around his legs. He embraced such familiarity. He stared at the ceiling.

This would be his last night in this place.

He would leave tomorrow.

It was decided.

If he stayed any longer…

…Any longer…

He might never leave.

A part of himself questioned why this would be so bad.

But he quickly pushed that thought away, tucked it into the shadows of his mind.

He sighed.

"Goin' the bed?"

Key turned his head to see Anitta in the doorway.

"No."

"Ah. Well…" She paused, looking around the room.

Key didn't get up.

"You want to…come in?" he mumbled lamely. He felt strange inviting her into her own room at her own Hotel.

She laughed.

She had obviously found it humorous.

"Why, Key, I'd lurve to."

He choked a polite laugh in return.

She sat on a chair across the room.

And they sat in quiet, merely enjoying each other's company.

"Hey, Anitta…?"

"Hmm?"

She sounded half-asleep.

"Thank-you."

"Fer what, Key?"

He didn't reply. She chuckled again.

"Yer welcome."

He yawned, and she did too.

"I best be getin' off ter bed. You get some rest too, boy. Youz still got work tomorrow."

He said nothing.

"If ya wake up early again, Ah'll make ya sometin' good, aight?"

When she realized he was asleep, she tucked him in. Folded the red blanket firmly around his feet, and brushed loose hair away from his face. She glanced over him, her eyes settling on the keyhole marking.

"Youz a strange one, Key. But I really, wuldn't have it any udder way."

The night sky was fogged over in a sheer cloud of gray, but past it, barely visible, was a pleasant deep violet.

* * *

Chapter Notes: Did this seem more choppy than usual? I guess it's all the dialogue. 

Anyone else happy to see Key opening up a bit more? I am. XD;

As far as this chapter goes, I really had no idea what to do (character wise) while I was writing it. Throw in Aerith? Sure. Any significance in that? Heck if I know.

Sorry if Leon's coming off as a bit OOC. I always thought he was a bit obsessive. Why would he not be obsessive over this as well?

Is Anitta's dialect and accent too confusing to read? I mean, it's not to me since I'm the one writing it…but…What do you think? Should I tone down the funny spellings and stuff?

Thanks to all who reviewed to the last chapter! And a special thank-you to Absinthian, who really just inspired me to get outta my slump and start writing again. Appreciate it!

Remember, it's your input and reviews that keep this story going.

Happy Holidays everyone!

R&R

Seeya next chapter!


	5. No Looking Back

_No Reply_

Author's Notes: Alrighty, get ready for some fast-paced "omg-it's-1:30-in-the-morning-I think-I'm-going-to-try-and-update-two-days- in-a-row"-tastic stuff.

Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, yah yah. I admit it.

_Chapter 5: No Looking Back _

* * *

Key slept listlessly.

No dreams.

Void of thought.

No nothing.

It was almost as if he had died away from the grasp of such feeble things.

It was almost as if he were wide awake.

He awoke to the feeling of hands, shaking him. He could feel Anitta's nails digging into his skin.

"Key!" She whispered harshly.

He yawned, then rolled over.

She shoved his shoulder down into an unnatural, uncomfortable position. This time with more force. He felt the bruise form.

He gave a grunt, and opened his eyes immediately to give her a scowl.

Something was wrong.

The brightness of morning did not meet his caramel eyes.

Anitta's happy grin did not greet him.

It was night.

Still.

The night was still. It was eerie. These weren't the things that were familiar to him in this world. It was wrong.

Key sat up immediately, cool night breath brushing his face. Anitta had already moved from his side, slammed his door shut, locked it and threw his things into a ratty knapsack. All seemingly in one movement.

He blinked slowly, his mind not registering such quickly prosecuted actions. The air smelt wrong.

"We'z need tah get outta herre Key!" She snapped.

She threw the bag at him. It landed against his chest with a rude thump.

"Why?" he coughed, slinging the straps over his shoulder. His things were heavier than he remembered.

Anitta shook her head, yanking the boy off of the bed by his arms. His feet got tangled in the comforter, and he stumbled.

"Key!" she cried. She tugged the boy closer to her, arm wrapped firmly around his waist as she hoisted him out of the window. His head hit the storm window.

Key landed with a thud on his feet and immediately held his arms out for Anitta to jump into. She did, and he faltered under her weight.

He had never been in the back alley before.

It was dark. Shadows loomed over them. Flyers decrepit with wind and age hung loosely from the bleak brick walls, tacked on by the corners, torn away at the words.

The night felt stale around him.

"It's dem critters again, Key! They back!" She scrambled out of his frame and ushered for him to follow. He lingered for only a split of a moment, his eyes scanning the windowpane he had often found himself obsessively staring out of. He laughed to himself the irony of the situation.

He was leaving, just like he had planned.

'_What do these 'critters' even look like?'_

The alleyway was dark and Key found that Anitta would often reach her arm back and clasp his hand. He felt like a kid being led by his mommy to the store.

But he could feel her fingers quivering around his own.

He could feel her sense of urgency. Anitta's nails dug harshly into his palm, and he felt stupid as he tripped over the cobblestone path.

He felt her undeniable moral obligation to protect him.

He, in turn, felt useless.

"We'll get to Leon and dem, he'll tell us what to do from dhere." She explained.

Key nodded, following closely behind the woman. He was clueless to this emergency. Clueless to the danger. What harm could 'critters' do?

The shadows seemed to dance and liquefy as they passed. Key couldn't help but watch, enticed by such elegant but mechanical movement.

He felt Anitta jerk at his hand.

"Don' look bak, Key."

But he did. The shadows interested him, scared him, seemed to follow him and beckon his gaze.

Key would never forget the look on her face when those shadows leapt at him.

That instant was the slowest moment of his life.

All he saw was the sky, Anitta shoving him backward. The stars were beautiful. Never once had he seen them shine so magnificently. He could feel them reaching out to him, pulling him closer.

She didn't scream. Key heard her body hit the pavement.

He felt his mind descending before he even registered his actions.

He crawled to her like a cat on his hands and knees.

Key clasped her hand desperately in his fist. She smiled at him slightly, her lovely face contorted by such a sad gesture. Blonde hair matted over her face. Her eyes wrinkled to her cheeks.

"Let go, Key." It was the first time she had ever spoken clearly, her voice sounded strangely hollow. Empty. He shook his head, tugging her close, tangling her fingers in his and swallowing his own breath as if to restore hers.

The shadow lashed out again, and for a moment its bright yellow eyes met Key's. Anitta winced, and sobbed heavily yanking away from Key's grip and shoving him forcefully off.

"Don't look back!"

He watched the light leak away from her eyes.

Suddenly, all the vibrant and vulgar colors she possessed seemed to have never existed. Her once delightfully pale skin seemed gray now. Her cattish gaze, penetrated by black voids of nothingness. Even her clothes lost their luster. Her own hand lay limp in front of her, reaching out for him, telling him to leave. Her red nails were crimson.

"Anitta…?"

There was no reply.

She was gone.

He was lost.

He ran.

* * *

How he ended up at Leon's house, he did not know.

Aerith greeted him at the door, and he stumbled through the threshold until he was on his knees. She looked past him as if expecting someone else.

Key felt like retching.

"But Key, where is Anitta?"

Venom had never sounded so sweet.

He coughed.

And panted.

And desperately gnarled his teeth, shaking bones barely keeping his body stable.

His face was hot.

Sticky.

Lashed with wet salt, a scolding torrent of what might as well have been magma rushing down the length of his face.

He never knew what tears felt like.

He knew now that they were the most painful things ever afflicted upon him.

He looked up, his breath returning to him in spastic stabs at air.

His words were lost.

He couldn't tell them.

It was his fault.

He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but his thoughts were muted by a scream.

He didn't recognize the sound of his own voice.

Leon looked down on him.

Aerith closed the door.

Two unfamiliar faces turned away. A blonde man who kept his face hidden, a brunette girl who stayed in the shadows.

Leon's heavy footsteps approached him for the second time that day.

"They're called Heartless." He said simply. But his words fell heavily to the ground. "And they devour people's hearts."

He kneeled to meet Key on the ground.

The boy said nothing. His shoulders slumped forward, his eyes fell to the floor.

"It's because of me, isn't it?" he mouthed.

He was grateful Leon heard him the first time. But he did nothing to answer him. He seized Key at the top half of his arms, and pulled him close.

His breath was warm on his wet face. He felt his hair tickle his brow.

"You need to go."

Key blinked.

"I don't know how, but they followed you here. However you arrived at this place, please, use the same means to leave."

"He must've torn a riff." He heard the girl whisper to the blond. "Tha's the only way they coulda gotten back."

He watched Leon's gaze flicker toward them.

"I'm sorry, Key."

The boy nodded, that unmistakable pain burning his eyes again.

Leon helped him onto his feet.

"I didn't mean to." Key apologized roughly, his voice worn and raspy like an old man.

He didn't mean for any of it.

Didn't mean to tell the truth.

Didn't mean to lose her.

Didn't mean a lot of things.

Leon nodded, pretending to understand.

And perhaps he did.

He didn't hear Aerith's last words to him.

Key waved.

Their eyes seemed to look right through his body.

Reality itself twisted in front of him.

He felt the rushing of air, the familiar tightening of his lungs.

Watched the scene in front of him ooze away, until everything ebbed to black.

His skin sizzled.

His limbs twitched.

His ears popped.

His lungs suffocated.

His throat burst to flame.

His thoughts numbed away.

Felt his body taking the plunge until there was nothing but warmth around him.

Then the warmth subsided.

His breath divided.

His body ignited.

And Key was gone.

* * *

Chapter Notes: Eh? EH! WHAT WAS THAT! You say it's too short? Well, friends, joke's on you. I never intended this chapter to be long.

(sighs) Farewell, Anitta. You truly were, a blast to write with. No offense Ann, but you were the only thing binding out protagonist to Traverse Town.

And to those you who think Leon sounds a bit rude and cold-hearted toward Key, especially this last part, you've gotta keep in mind how UN-selfish he was being. Remember that he wanted Key to stick around so he could ask him questions about other worlds, and crap like that. Instead, he put his own ambitions aside to usher on a greater importance.

And if you figured out that the "blond man who kept his face hidden" was Cloud, and the "brunette girl in the shadows" was Yuffie, you get a cookie, because I totally got all lazy on their character description and didn't feel like going through the whole introductory process. I realize that it was lazy, and that it might be random and confusing.

Don't ask me what's going on with Key and his emo-self. I really have no clue yet.

Thanks to EVERYONE who reviewed to the past chapters! I really appreciate the input and your opinions on the story. Reviews make me happy, and are what inspire me to keep writing! So it's really you the reader keeping this alive!

…Poor Cid. Key just went up an disappeared without turning in a pink-slip or nuttin'. Ah well.

Seeya next chapter!


	6. Envy in the Form of a Friendly Glance

_No Reply_

Author's Notes: Amg, I'm on an updating rampage! Just TRY and stop me! XD (yawns) It's currently 2:00 in the morning, so I won't upload this until later this morning because I kinda want to sleep. Plus, I figure no one will be up to read it anyway. XD (Turns out FF dot net didn't want to cooperate, but I've finally succeeded!)

_Chapter 6:_ _Envy in the Form of a Friendly Glance_

* * *

"_Thinking of you, Wherever you are._

_We pray for our sorrows to end, _

_and hope that our hearts will blend. _

_Now I will step forward to realize this wish._

_And who knows: _

_Starting a new journey may not be so hard _

_and maybe it has already begun._

_There are so many worlds;_

_But they share the same sky..._

_The same destiny."_

* * *

He didn't know how long the jump took. He never did. 

Key landed with a thud, this time on his back. He ached. His muscles felt stretched.

He felt.

His breath returned in heavy gasps, and he gulped at the air greedily not bothering to even sit up.

It was sweet. Tasted like grass. Smelt like it too.

His sight returned to him the night sky.

His ears gave him the sound of wind, and it brushed eagerly against his skin in cool tentative licks.

He felt his arms spread awkwardly at his side, as if he had failed in an attempt to fly. His legs were the same.

He blinked, feeling his own eyes twitch in their sockets.

He ached.

Key's senses left him again, just as quickly as they had returned. He didn't let any thoughts enter his consciousness. He didn't want to think.

Then it was dark again.

* * *

Key woke up to the unfamiliar face of another boy looking down on him. 

The boy smiled widely, baring his teeth almost in an act of ferocity.

He blinked heavily, and Key felt his breath on his face.

The boy looked tired.

His eyes were blue, black pupils burdening the center as hazel rays gleamed from behind. It was as if the sky itself lay dormant in this boy's bold eyes; the moon eclipsing the sun— the light surrounding the darkness in a blue-ish golden hue.

He had brown hair, much like his own only lighter. It was organized in such a way that it seemed to point straight to the heavens.

Then his hand waved in front of his face.

"You awake?"

Key blinked again. A simple enough answer to his question.

"Helloooo?" came his voice again "Say something at least!"

Key felt his chest rise with a sigh, and he didn't try to stifle it.

"Something."

The boy laughed, finding his bitterness amusing.

Was it funny?

He turned, and called to his friends.

"Donald! Goofy!"

Key couldn't help but find these names strange.

"He's awake!"

And then the boy's attention was brought back to him.

"You know, you're the first person I've seen on this road."

Key didn't even realize he was _on _a road. Everything was happening much too quickly for his tastes.

Why didn't this person just leave him be?

He sat up slowly, and the boy backed away as to give him room. Room for what? He didn't know. To breathe, maybe. Or perhaps he secretly anticipated Key would attack him once conscious.

He was almost blinded by the sun.

He looked around. This place…seemed so vast.

The boy had not lied; he was, in fact, sitting on a very long, very narrow, yellow road. There was no one else in sight, no buildings or any sign of civlization…but the boy and his…companions?

His eyes caught the other two: Donald and Goofy he could only presume.

A duck and a dog. Well…An upright duck and dog. At least they were clothed.

Key shrugged it off. He had seen stranger. The two were arguing.

Well…

The duck seemed to be arguing.

But it seemed to roll right off the other's back.

Key turned his attention back to his surrondings, and again felt the endlessness of the place stab at his gut.

Meadow as far as the eye could perceive, the sky even further.

He felt the boy's stare baring into him. He tried to ignore it, but the burn of his eyes only kneaded in deeper.

So he looked at him.

"Is that a black eye?" The boy immediately asked, pointing directly to his left eye. Shameless.

Key shook his head quickly.

"Oh, sorry." The boy laughed, smiling. The smile, in all actuality, had never left his face. "I was just makin' sure you weren't hurt. Or something."

Key nodded.

Minimal conversation.

He would not make the same mistake again.

But the boy…was making it very hard.

"What is it?" He inched closer, cocking his head curiously to the side.

Key quietly pondered his age. By appearance he would have guessed they were the same in years, and could only presume the same in mindset.

But no.

This boy seemed so…

He didn't know the word.

But he envied it.

He slicked his hair out of his face for the boy to see.

"A tattoo?" he said, voice in awe "Of a keyhole?"

"Obviously."

"Why a keyhole?"

Key shrugged.

How the hell should he know?

This boy asked too many questions for his liking.

"I'm Sora! By the way." He said it as if he had forgotten they had just met. As if they were already friends.

"What's your name?"

Key blinked.

Lie.

Lie.

Lie.

Lie.

"Key."

Dammit.

The boy grinned lightly.

"It fits." He said.

"I'm glad to know my name has earned your approval."

And they sat in silence.

Key was prone to silence.

He was used to it.

This other boy, however, Sora…He seemed to have difficulty dealing with it. He would fidget around, pop his knuckles, and twitch with such movement and energy Key wondered why he didn't just collapse with exhaustion.

Key almost gasped when he actually did.

Sora flopped very suddenly backward into the grass beside Key.

Then he sighed.

And he almost sounded sad.

Such a contrast in emotions surprised Key.

He put his arms under his own head like a pillow, and just stared, up.

Key could hear the other two fighting, but didn't hear a word they said.

He mirrored Sora's actions. He too, stared up.

"You don't talk much, huh?"

No.

Key shook his head, letting the boy do all the talking.

"Nothing to say?"

He shrugged.

"I guess that's not possible, huh? I don't blame you if you don't feel like talking though."

And Key shrugged again.

This boy talked enough for the both of them.

He stopped listening.

Stopped seeing.

Only looked at the top of his eyelids.

Let the darkness consume him.

Let the thoughts bleed away.

Sora's voice droned through his ears.

Like a lullaby.

A sickening lullaby that made him want to be deaf to the world.

How dare he be so happy?

He fell asleep, lulled by the voice of an optimistic boy.

He did not hear what he had to say.

He did not dream.

* * *

Jumping Worlds always made Key tired. Some instances more than others. 

This was one of those instances.

He woke up wishing to leave this world of vast nothingness. Wished to leave the boy and his dog and duck.

But he was just.

So.

Tired.

He yawned.

And felt tears of exhaust well up in his eyes.

His stamina would return.

And then he could leave.

Until then, he would just bide his time with the Sora boy. And his dog and duck.

He opened his eyes to find that night had dawned over him again. The stars were dim.

He rolled over, and found his own ratty knapsack pressing into his side. Uncomfortable. He pushed it heatedly away.

He wanted nothing to remind him of that night.

He rolled over to his other side only to find himself breathing in a fistful of Sora's hair. The boy had not left his side.

His nose itched.

He heard faint sounds of snoring, well…more like a gurgling whistle. He presumed it was the dog.

Maybe he could leave. Now.

He had never tried so soon after a jump.

He stood. What the hell did he have to lose?

The grass was springy with dew underneath his feet.

He took a deep breath, and secluded his mind from all thought.

From all things of this world.

He tried to reach that void.

That blackness.

The familiar state he would enter…where his lungs would burst and his body would fail to remind him of anything else but the pain…of anything else but this wonderful ability to escape…But…

All he heard was snoring.

A gurgling whistle of a snore.

He couldn't do it.

He cursed himself.

His incompetence.

Why?

Why this world?

Why such a secluded place with such obnoxiously happy and fortunate people?

Not that he knew them. They could very well be unfortunate. But they were fortunate in ways Key could only assume they took for granted.

They were friends.

They could smile, and laugh at will.

They could argue, and be happy all the same.

They could sleep, and know that when they woke up they would still be together.

Not like him.

Who had no friends.

Who did not know how to smile, or laugh.

Who could argue only out of hatred and deceit.

Who would sleep, expecting to be secluded from all others when he awoke.

But he felt his yearn to be accepted by them growing.

No.

He would not make that mistake again.

He would not allow himself to find affection only to lose it.

Only to be the cause of it's exile.

He watched them. Standing over them, towering. Envying.

Could he have had this too, if he tried?

Was he too busy running? Searching?

Too busy being lost?

He didn't know if he was lost.

'_You're only lost if someone is looking for you. And you only know if people are looking once you're found.'_

Was someone…?

No.

Of course not.

Who would?

No one came to mind.

No one at all.

He didn't even know what he was searching for anymore, didn't know why he continued to jump. What was the point? Why was he so desperate for a constant escape?

Nothing came to mind.

Nothing at all.

He collapsed to his butt.

And sat with his legs crossed, elbow balanced on his knee and his chin resting in his palm.

"Whatever." He sighed, and surrendered from such things for the night. He scoffed.

He was even running from his own thoughts.

His fit woke the boy. Sora. He had a name. An identity. Sora Sora Sora.

He watched him twist around for a minute.

Then he lay still.

He wondered if Sora had dreams?

The dog? The duck? Wait…They had names too. Donald and Goofy. As if he knew which was which.

Nightmares? Did they have Nightmares?

Were they lost too?

Lost, together?

It seemed almost contradictory.

The boy….

Sora.

Sora woke again after only a few moments, as if startled back to life by some sudden realization.

"Key? Where'd he go!"

He sat up immediately and almost collided into Key.

"I thought you had left without even telling us!" He stuttered.

Like it mattered. They were barely even acquaintances. He would wager that his absence from Sora's journey would not have a large effect.

But he shrugged anyway and answered with a polite:

"Nope."

"It's not morning yet?"

"Nope."

"Then I'm goin' back to sleep. Don't scare me like that again. Geeze."

Key blinked.

This was a strange kid.

"What?" asked Sora.

Key shrugged.

"Oh. Just looked like somethin' was on your mind."

Key shrugged again, looking away. What nerve. He adjusted his jacket.

Sora yawned widely, over-exaggerated, stretching his arms through the air as he fell back to the ground. The dew looked as if it had exploded under his impact. He looked up again. The wind greeted them both, caressing their faces in a gentle tantrum.

Key followed his gaze.

"Are you lost, Sora?"

The words had fumbled out before he even realized he was thinking them. He scolded his babbled words, even though it was too late. The sky was the deepest blue, almost velvet in appearance. Sora said nothing. And for a second Key had thought his query had not even made it's way to his ears. He almost let out a relieved sigh when Sora spoke again.

"Nu-uh." Came the reply.

"I'm looking for someone."

* * *

Chapter Notes: PHEW. I'm sorry if that was lacking in action. And I'm sorry for those of you who wanted Key to go to another world before running into more of the original cast…But… 

That would have just been BORING.

Key is BORING without other people around. Then he would have had to spend a couple chapters in THAT world…and I would have had to make up some BORING stuff for him to do, like get ANOTHER job and stuff…so you would have had CHAPTERS of BORING. Now, who wants that? Not me. Because I would have had to write it.

Speaking of Key…

Hello, emo-kid. What's up with him lately? I hope this chapter let you get to know him and his train of thought a bit better. I realize that he's probably not the easiest character to understand and stuff, because of all the things we don't know about him. That's right, I said "we". I'm just as clueless as all of you. Key is a total mystery until I can sit down and just decide wtf his deal is. But for now, he remains the emo-kid enigma. But you still lurve him, right?

Does Sora seem too…how should I put this…childish? I realize that this is a common OOC stereotype for him, and I do also realize that he can be an arrogant over-confident prick when he wants to. His naive friendly side is just what came out this chapter. I'm sure his truer colors will shine through eventually.

And Donald and Goofy? Sorry about that. They'll talk and interact next chapter, I SWEAR. I just…How can I say….(sighs) Don't yell at me for being a lazy bum.

This chapter came up a bit shorter than I wanted it too. By like…1000 words. (Starts singing the FFX-2 song) But seriously, that just seemed like such an amazing way to end the chapter. I couldn't pass it up.

Wow, I'm sorry I have so much to say about this chapter.

OH! That quote at the beginning, as you probably guessed because we're all Kingdom Hearts fans here, is NOT mine. And I'm not claiming it to be. Thanks to Sumi for being kind enough to retrieve it for me!

Alright. Same thanks to all previous reviews apply. I love you all, your input means the world to me, you motivate me, and make me feel happy and I bet, if you keep reviewing, you'll make emo Key happy too.


	7. Expression

_No Reply_

Author's Notes: …I have no idea what I'm doing anymore. O.o; This whole "plotless" thing is giving me a run for my money. I apologize in advance for the dryness of this chapter. I'm on a bought of Writer's Block, I think. Happy (belated) New Year's everyone!

_Chapter 7: Expression_

* * *

Key's vision was blurry. 

Granted, his vision was always blurry out of his right eye, but that was something he was already used to.

No, this was different

Not his own eyes, but something of the worldly condition obscured his vision.

"Fog! I've never seen it like this!" The voice was nasally, almost incoherently babbled.

"I know! It's usually just endlessly sunny. I sorta welcome the change."

Ah, he recognized that voice.

That was Sora.

He looked up to place his face. When did he fall asleep again? Was it morning already?

He didn't really know.

He shrugged it off, and stood by the familiar voice. The familiar face.

The duck stared at him. Squinted, really. His eyes were large. Expressive. TOO expressive, really.

'Talk about wearing your emotions on your sleeve.'

He smiled inwardly to himself. How obnoxious would it be to have eyes like that?

The duck snorted slightly, looking over Sora's shoulder to Key. He was agitated about something. He always seemed agitated about something.

"It's quite the coincidence." The syllables were very annunciated. Precise, even. Key stared at the duck. His nasally voice was hard to listen to. How did Sora stand it?

The dog spoke next.

"Ga hyuck."

Okay.

So it wasn't really 'speaking'. More like a mutilated chuckle of a thought that got lost somewhere in the exit.

"What's a coincidence?" There was Sora again. Appealing in all his naivete.

"That HE showed up here and all we get is fog!"

Key blinked.

"…Right." He murmured in a simple reply. As if. He could jump worlds, not control the weather.

Sora shrugged and glanced over to the boy behind him.

"Key, did you break the sun?" He sounded stupid. Of course he didn't. He had to know at least that.

"No." Key found himself answering anyway.

"Well there. Y'see Donald? Our new friend can't change the weather at will."

Friend?

He again almost laughed at the thought.

They were barely acquaintances.

Barely.

Hardly enough to be considered 'friends'.

"Guh…" there was the half formulated thought again. Drabbling Dog. "Maybe Donald thinks it's a bad oven?"

There was an awkward silence.

Oven?

"Omen?" Came Sora and the duck's voice simultaneously.

"Du'hyuck. That's what I said."

Well. The thought was there. At least the dog was rational in his suspicions.

Stunted with words but…rational in the least.

Despite that…He didn't like his presence being enough to fuel a 'bad omen'.

What did he care?

He'd be rid of them soon enough.

Did they always talk this much?

He turned on heel, for no reason particular. His back was to Sora's own.

He wasn't mad.

Not really.

They had good reason to be suspicious. He had given them no reason not to be.

He would just…

Have to pretend to be oblivious to such accusations.

He would pretend to be friends, just a bit longer.

He felt a tap on his shoulder.

"We're getting ready to split, you coming?"

Key looked at Sora for a moment.

Without thinking he felt himself giving a nod, hesitantly lifting his bag from the ground. He slung it over his shoulders, and blinked at Sora. Obeying his request as if he were nothing more than a lapdog.

He cursed himself for agreeing so easilly.

'But…'

What would be the harm in following them?

At least he wouldn't be alone.

Sora smiled at him, before trotting back to tell the others.

He was always smiling.

Smiley Sora.

Drabbling Dog.

Delirious Duck.

* * *

The sky was gray. 

And the sun was barely a whimper of a glimmer.

They walked for a long time.

Key didn't mind walking.

In fact, he might even go as far as to say he 'enjoyed' it.

The steady rhythm of his own feet was somewhat calming to his nerves. Such an act of mediocrity, such mindless repetition. It was relaxing. It was minimal effort.

Talking, on the other hand…

He didn't enjoy that so much.

Sora seemed to.

He liked to talk, to tell stories. He liked to laugh and smile and joke at his friends.

And they seemed to enjoy his company.

Key listened.

Sora mostly talked about his friends.

And his home.

He was on a journey, apparently, to find one of them. He seemed to miss these two things very much.

Despite his smile, he ached for them.

Key could tell just by the sound of his voice.

He felt envy flick it's long nails against his gut. He never knew such a nasty monster resided in him until he met Sora.

He stopped listening for his own sake. Envy would surely rip-apart his insides if he didn't.

He made sure to keep a distance behind them after that.

The duck seemed to prefer this, anyway.

The fog still hadn't lifted.

Sora and his friends blurred into mere silhouettes as their walk continued. Key put his hands in his pockets. Empty pockets. Empty hands.

He glanced around. Sora's voice simmered to a monotonous slur. He heard the dog guffaw.

It was strange.

This place had seemed so vast just yesterday.

It had seemed so endless.

Now with the mere presence of fog…Key almost felt claustrophobic. He kicked at a rock absentmindedly.

It shot forward about a foot, and landed again, rolling over itself until it finally stopped.

He stared at it.

Rock.

It was gray.

A little jagged along the edges. A little uneven.

It had looked out of place nestled in the blades of grass.

It looked even more out of place in the road.

Was it stupid that this rock reminded him of himself?

Of course it was. This rock had no face. This rock could not move on it's own. This rock had no hands. This rock wasn't even alive.

Key kicked it again suddenly angry, and it flew through the air with the grace of a gull.

He had used more force that he had even thought to anticipate. It arched in it's decline.

And hit the duck square in the back of the head. His hat toppled forward, and a big red welt was already forming by the time he spun around.

The duck yelled something, but it was inaudible under the sound of Sora's laughter. The dog guffawed.

"Sorry…" murmured Key. His empty hands fidgeted in his pockets nervously.

The duck glowered at him, rubbing the bruise and sliding the hat back atop his head. He mumbled angrily. If looks could kill, Key suspected he might be dead.

"I said I was sorry." Key spat again. He was almost prompted to find another rock and fling it at him. What a short-tempered duck! Sora just continued laughing, the dog hooting right along with him.

For the rest of the day Sora tried to start conversation with him.

"Hey Key, what's up?"

"Hey, you hungry?"

"Geeze we've been walking a long time."

And other awkward phrases. Key would answer with a shrug, a grunt, a simple word. Why was this boy so persistent to talk to him?

* * *

Night rolled in, and the fog failed to diminish. How strange that it would last for so long. Key began to wonder if it truly was an omen of some sort. 

The others slept.

He had yet to consider them friends.

He wouldn't let himself.

They slept.

And Key felt no need for it.

He found himself impatient for the next Jump, anxious to leave this place and these people. And he didn't like it.

Was it too soon? Could he accomplish another jump after such a short amount of time?

"Nothing to lose, right?"

He stood for the second consecutive try in two days. The grass was springy underneath his feet. The dog snored, the duck babbled incoherently in his sleep. He took a deep breath, letting such senses seep away.

They probably would have been friends. Maybe if it had been another world, another time, another place, another face…Maybe if he wasn't so deterred from the thought of such a companion, less willing to run away.

And the familiar numbness filled his fingers and his feet. A hot gush of air washing his entire body until every fiber of his being caught fire and burst. His thoughts blurred together.

Friends? Could he have been? Would they have helped him? Would they care about what he lacked in memories? Care that he could slip through the boundaries of other worlds?

Whatweretheconsequences? Wouldtheyhavelefthimtoo?

"Key?"

His eyes flew open with the recognition of such a voice. It was Sora. It was always Sora.

"What…what are you doing?"

Shit. His concentration fluttered, and he felt the numbness slip away for an instant before it flared again. This boy talked too much.

Key clenched his eyes shut again. No. He wouldn't let go. Not when he was so close to leaving these people. Not when he could he was so close to tearing himself away.

His breath left him in stabs of suffocation. The road, the fog, the grass, the sky, melted away until all that was left was Sora's voice ringing in his ears.

"Key!"

He faltered for a moment, and reality flickered back to him in flashes. As if someone were flipping a light switch. He was too determined to leave than to let it consume him again.

The dog looked confused. The duck was still rubbing sleep away from his eyes. Sora's smile was gone. He felt the boy latch onto his arm.

What a fool.

What a mistake.

He let the blackness consume him in a familiar whirlwind.

Felt Sora still clutching onto him.

He had no room for panic in his head. Key simply grabbed the boy's hood and held it tightly.

He had never jumped with another person before.

He didn't know it was possible.

He didn't know what would happen.

What a fool.

What a mistake.

The pain sizzled through his body.

And unconsciousness flooded him again.

* * *

Chapter Notes: Ugh. I am so SO sorry. You guys really deserve a better chapter than that. (keels self). I don't know WHY this was so hard to write! I guess I'm just lazy. I'm beginning to wish I had made Key a more exciting character, rather than this morbid blank faced kid that he turned out to be.

I'm also wondering if this particular fic would have been better off in First Person.

Yes, well. I'm sorry. This chapter really WAS supposed to be longer. There was supposed to be some character development, Key was supposed to officially learn Donald's and Goofy's names, he and Sora were supposed to actually become friends…But none of that translated from my thoughts to my writing. Oh well. I guess I'll just have to work extra hard on the next chapter to make up for this sorry drabble of words you just read.

Don't ask me about the mysterious fog. Ever heard of how art imitates life? Well, it was really foggy when I started writing this. That's it. I guess it COULD be symbolism for the hazy, restricted way Key tends to view things. Instead of seeing an endless, sunny field of opportunity, all he saw was an entire world of emptiness used to confine him. That could be stretching it. XD

Thanks SO much to all of you reviewers! And a special thanks to "obaa" for trying to cheer Key up! Remember, the chapter I get no reviews is the chapter that this story ends! XD Sorry, does that sound too dramatic? Well it's true! You are the ones who keep this story and its characters alive!

Seeya next chapter!


	8. Disoriented

_No Reply_

**Author's Notes**: Sorry it took so long for this to update! Please forgive me! I fell into quite the slump when I realized how much of a blob this story was. So, as promised, I tried extra hard on this chapter to make up for the last one. (Not really, I just tried to make it longer. I'm lazy. Durr).

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, or any of the characters and worlds affiliated with it. I do own, however, the original concepts, thoughts, and ideas put into this story. So HA! Key is mine!

_Chapter 8: Disoriented_

* * *

The air reeked; the thick, heavy stench of rotting food.

His head hurt, blurry premature thoughts throbbing viciously against his very skull.

'_Where…?_

_Why…_

_Such a fool…'_

The sound of an unfamiliar mechanic whir buzzed to his right. To his left, was nothing. He felt dizzy. He felt nauseous. He felt the sour need to retch.

Key opened his eyes, and the world that immediately greeted him was dark. There were no stars. There was no sun. In all actuality, he could not decipher if it was night or day.

The wall was gritty behind him. Brick. A dead-end alleyway. Walls towered above him for a good 8 stories. Windows, some broken in frame, signified each floor. A faint light poured out of some, complete darkness poured out of others. He had landed in garbage. His stomach gave a lurch, and he felt his nostrils flare in disapproval of the smell.

He sat up, gingerly rubbing the back of his head. It was swollen right above the neck, and a patch of hair was stiff and crusty with what he could only presume was blood. His fingers felt numb, as did his toes. He wondered vaguely if he was still bleeding.

He gave a heavy sigh, slouching back onto the wall, cradling the base of his head with the palm of his hand so as not to irritate it. It throbbed. He clenched his eyes shut again, convincing his head to stop spinning, coaxing his thoughts back into order.

'_Where…?_

_Why…_

_Such a fool…_

_He should have just…let me go._

_I should have let him go.'_

That's right. He remembered suddenly that he hadn't come to this world alone.

And immediately he started to panic. He tried to stand, but his body seemed to favor crawling. His vision blurred for an instant. His numb hands tingled oddly when he put weight on them.

Where was he? Where was Sora?

He stumbled. Had he not made it? Did he lose him?

He glanced frantically over the muck and garbage around him. The smell triggered his gag reflex.

"Sora!"

His voice sounded pathetic, but for the moment he didn't care. He couldn't care. He fumbled clumsily around on his hands and knees, like a dog, a stray mutt sniffing out the only hope left for it. His stomach turned.

Shit.

Shit.

SHIT.

Where was he?

He didn't know how to place this feeling.

He didn't recognize his own sense responsibility, the guilt was already sizzling through his skin, tingling in a chill of shivers down his spine.

Sora should have landed right next to him, right?

He took a deep breath, willed himself to regain composure. His head was throbbing, but he pushed the pain aside. He desperately tried to remember.

He remembered clutching onto his shirt at the last second, but recalled nothing of the Jump itself. He never did.

He looked at his palms, and saw no sign of Sora there either. Had he let go? Did he lose him? Was Sora lost?

He cursed himself, and sat on his feet. All he had to do was hold on to the boy, and he couldn't even accomplish that.

"Sora?" there was the sound of his own feeble voice again. He had to admit he hated it.

And then silence. The steady mechanic hum to his left made his head want to burst. The air was thick, and hard to breathe.

"Key?"

And his gut nearly exploded into his throat. He really, truly, thought he imagined it, thought he was going insane. Haunted by the voices he lost. Would he hear Anitta's cries next?

He heard his name called again.

"Key…?"

His gaze snapped around the whole alleyway, darkness, fliers, broken windows, broken lights… before finally settling on Sora. He had been in right front of him, quite literally, the entire time….just…covered in trash. Key sighed away his worries in relief.

He crawled over to the boy, and with a pull helped him up out of the garbage. He looked disheveled, disoriented... But not hurt. His hair was a bit messed up, the hood of his jacket hanging on by frail seams…but…other than that surface damage, Key could see nothing wrong with Sora.

And they sat.

And they stared at each other. Key found his lungs uncomfortably tight, his head still pulsing a bit in pain. His hand went to rub the nape of his neck. Sora opened his mouth a few times, as if to say something, but muted himself in favor of the silence. An awkward silence.

"You're a fool." Key finally spat.

Sora flinched as if the words had been a physical assault, turning his face away. He wanted to say something. Key could tell. He could read individuals as easily and simply as a normal person could read a book. What motivated them, these people, he could never quite figure out.

There were many things he did not understand, however, and he was not about to exert the effort to waste his days unlocking them.

Sora sent a feeble gaze again his way, and his eyes spoke more words than Key would ever think to gain the meanings to.

His mouth suddenly spoke without his own command. "What?" And the voice diffused once it hit the air, the evanescence of his lingering breath barely catching in Sora's ears.

What did he so desperately want to say? To ask?

Funny, this boy had seemed so shameless before. Now he just seemed awkward and anxious.

How could he ever be envious of such a pathetic state? Was his confidence just an act? He felt a scoff fumble through his lips. Pathetic. The thought was familiar to him. Pathetic people, pretending to be all they wanted to be, when their insides were hollow and rotten from negligence. How lucky that they could achieve the 'charmed' life they desired solely by lying.

Could he so easily compare Sora to one of those people?

He glanced over the other boy again, and found that his anger, in all of it's madness, was not really anger at all.

He was looking for an answer, really. He wanted to speak, to ask, as desperately as Sora did. Frustration.

_'Why did you follow me?'_

And he found he couldn't ask. And suddenly wondered if that made him pathetic. Pathetic. The thought was too familiar to him. He was the pathetic one. Accusing Sora when he didn't even know him.

It's not like they were friends, after all.

"You okay? You look like you bust your head on somethin'."

Key snapped his thoughts back like a yo-yo on a twine.

"I'm fine." He replied shortly.

Fool, fool…What a fool. Even Sora's observations were foolish.

"Where are we?"

Key shrugged. "I dunno."

He felt Sora look over him suspiciously for a moment. When he stood, Key was surprised. For a second, he looked almost noble; like some heroic figure transcending time and space to tell his glimmer of a hopeful tale.

Key shook his head and the glory faded.

* * *

The buzzing to his right, Key finally found, was not actually 'buzzing' at all. Rather, it was the whir of bullet-like busses zooming their way down an, what appeared to be, eight-lane track. Four heading right, four heading left. Each train was lined with windows, and the passengers aboard would have been clearly visible if not for the hazy smoke that streamed the frame. Each had three headlights, two white, and one that blinked red while slowing down. The luminance of such seemed sort of strange, like search-lights on the look-out. Racing lighthouses, with many windows.

On the side of each 'bus' was a script of numbers that Key could make no sense of, seemed to be random.

38654103

He had never seen such sophisticated technology.

Well, not that he could remember anyway.

Key and Sora looked at each other, both equally intimidated at the speed as the tailwind thrashed out at their faces. He saw Sora's mouth move to form words but could not hear him over the immense noise.

"What?"

Another bullet-bus zoomed past. Sora started chasing after it. And Key instinctively followed.

Tears sparked at his eyes when another train went whipping past, his hair tangling in around his face. He regretted not cutting it when he got the chance.

"Sora!"

But the other boy didn't hear him. He let out a heavy sigh. Tired. Apparently the jump had not taken as much out of Sora as it had out of him. A part of him was relieved.

Sora slowed to a stop just as the train did, and waved for Key to catch up.

'Boardin' the train, eh?'

Sora was a quick thinker. Seemed unfazed about being in an alien world. Again, a part of him was relieved.

The red light blinked, and kept it's constant click as the doors unfolded and collapsed onto the pavement with a loud clumsy 'thud'. A ramp. Key approached it timidly, and peeked inside as Sora walked past him. He seemed more excited than anything else. There was no driver. No signs of having to pay. He followed after Sora, again.

The train, like the rest of the world, was dark. The lights were dull, and flickered as the doors folded up again in a loud clatter. The seats looked almost like crude couches, no seatbelts in sight, no cushions either. The 'windows' seemed to have no resemblance windows at all, and seemed to be there purely for vanity purposes. They were high above the 'couches', hardly reachable if attainable at all. The aisle was narrow, barely enough room for two people of Key's size to walk through comfortably. There appeared to be no other passengers on board. His feet stuck obnoxiously to the floor. Dirty. He stumbled as the train started moving again.

"Sit down!"

Sora's voice sounded very out of place, cheerful. Key obeyed the other boy's request, and sat across from him. The seat squeaked underneath his weight, and he was instantly uncomfortable.

For once, Sora did not talk to numb the silence. He just stared at Key… as if waiting for him to admit something. As if waiting for him to say 'Okay! Joke's over!'.

But he didn't. Key didn't say a word. He looked at his feet, to the wall, up at the window, down to his feet again.

The words Sora was waiting for never came.

The boy sighed, leaning back into the seat. Key noted bitterly that Sora's seat did not seem as wiry as his own.

"So…"

'And so it begins…' Key mused.

"What happened?"

A simple enough question to answer, really. He looked at Sora from the corner of his eye.

"We Jumped."

He knew he wouldn't know what he meant by that, he was merely delaying the subject.

"Jumped?"

"Worlds. We Jumped worlds."

"Without a ship?"

Key nodded, then shrugged. Sora seemed slightly eager, if not familiar with the topic. Key was more than slightly reluctant to share. Though, it wasn't exactly something he could hide anymore. Not from this one, anyway. He stared at Sora. His confidence would not waver.

"You can…do this at will?"

Key nodded, then shrugged again. Two times, now.

"Pretty much." He concluded. "It's really tough, sometimes, though."

"You Jump with people a lot?"

"No. You're the first. I was afraid you were lost, truthfully."

Sora seemed slightly stunned at this. Key could only presume that the thought of being 'lost' was frightening to him. Key was already used to the idea.

"Oh." Was all Sora managed to say. More questions followed.

"When can we go back?"

"Back?"

"To Donald and Goofy!"

"Dog and duck?"

"…Yeah."

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know!"

"I've never really tried to return to places I've been--"

"What! Ever?"

"Never."

"Not even home?"

Key turned away at this, even before the words finished leaving his mouth. Flustered for some reason. There was no use in lying, but for some reason he found he would not so readily admit the truth. His hand went to the back of his neck, prodding gingerly at the cut and crusty hair. Was he ashamed?

"You…don't have a home…"

Sora had answered for him.

Key shrugged. Suddenly, he no longer felt like talking. Talking was tiring. He yawned. He was just tired. Of everything.

The lights flickered as the train slowed again, and the doors collapsed again in a loud mess. No one boarded. Sora showed no signs of leaving.

And the doors closed.

The lights flickered.

Key jerked forward a bit as the train started moving again.

"I'm sorry!"

He looked up at Sora. Why had he apologized? He had done nothing wrong! The words had just spilled out of him, as if his lips had sprung a leak.

Sora blinked.

Key prayed that he had only imagined himself needlessly apologizing. Stupid.

"For what?"

Damn. He hadn't imagined it. Stupid.

"For…I dunno…" He stammered. Why was he sorry?

"I'm sorry you got stuck here with me."

Was he sorry for that? Whose words were these fumbling out of his mouth? Who was this stammering idiot? Key cursed himself. Talking was tiring.

"Sorry that you got seperated from your friends…Sorry we're lost…"

Damn words!

"Sorry I called you a fool."

Was he sorry for any of that? Stupid. He didn't know. His was suddenly aware of the tightness of his lungs, again. The familiar pain had not departed, even after the jump. He was…tired. He wasn't used to talking. To conversing. He shook his head.

"Nevermind."

"It's okay!"

"…Whatever."

Words were too complicated. Talking was too much trouble. But still, Sora persisted. Key stifled a yawn, leaning into the coils, attempting to get comfortable. Sora was curious. Too eager to get to know him. He found himself getting used to his voice, less hesitant to answer questions.

"How long have you been jumping?"

"I dunno, as long as I can remember, I guess."

"Wow, that's a pretty long time."

Key shrugged.

He truthfully only recalled few of the past couple years of his life. He didn't tell Sora. He needed no more pity from this boy.

"Where have you been? How many worlds?"

Key shrugged again

"A lot."

"Any favorites? I mean… guess not if you've never been back to one…" He was talking really fast. Smiling widely. Key suddenly recalled Sora's own tales of travel. This boy was in love with adventure.

"Not really. I just sorta…wander."

His own experiences were not near as exciting. Somehow, this depressed Key slightly. He had no stories of his own to tell. He had no valiant quests to partake. No friends to find, no home to recover. He was simply at a loss.

"Wander?"

Key nodded, yawning again.

"Well. There was this one place. The people were nice even if the world wasn't pretty."

"Oh?" Sora brightened at the concept.

Then the words formed a lump in his throat. He averted his eyes, looked back down to his feet. "Not that I'd ever want to go back…"

Sora didn't pry.

Key was grateful.

* * *

The train didn't stop again. It just followed the track, the lights flickering sporadically if they felt the need.

Key and Sora talked well into the night. About nothing. About everything. Sora about stupid things, Key about whatever he felt worthy enough to share.

Key had never had a friend.

But he suspected this was the kind of comfort they were supposed to bring.

His lungs didn't feel quite so tight, his head didn't pound quite so hard. He yawned a lot.

Despite the hard springy squeaky coils, he was comfortable.

He didn't know when he fell asleep. Didn't know when Sora stopped talking.

But he dreamed for the first time he ever remembered.

* * *

**Chapter Notes**: Blah. This chapter was horrid. Key would not cooperate. After I hit 1000 words on this, I felt the need to pick up the pace. I just feel like I make things dawdle onnnn and onnnn. Tell me if the consistency is annoying.

Wooooo! This is the most Key has ever talked in a chapter (I think)! I am still adjusting to Sora, forgive me if he seems slightly OOC. I feel like I wasn't descriptive enough for this world…I'm really lazy, though. I'll put a better grasp on it next chapter. Maybe. If I feel the need. XD

I cannot even begin to tell you all how many times I almost just started this chapter over. (I never did, mind you. In the end I was just too lazy.) But I definitely feel some flow problems. Again, too lazy to fix it. Also, sorry the ending is kinda rushed. I just…didn't feel like workin' on this chapter anymore. FORGIVE MY LAZINESS! I'll get better, no worries.

And here is where I will thank all of you AWESOME reviewers!

Special thanks to Magical Girl Pretty Sammy (I shortened your penname for my convenience)! I really appreciate the suggestions! I know my spacing style is super weird and fragmented, but this time I tried to mash as many sentences together as I felt possible! I hope it makes it easier for you to read! 

I'm hoping to let things get exciting in the next few chapters or so!

Special awesome thanks to Absinthian for giving me some future plot ideas! That I will not spoil yet! But I feel the need to thank! (throws confetti)

I actually have quite a few ideas bouncing around my head. XD

And thanks to you too Sumi! You're always willing to give me such nice critique!

And you obaa! Such a faithful reader! (hugs)

And even to the new reviewer who hates cliffies! I'm sorry I kept you waiting skyvsearth!

OH! And this may not seem like very big news, but this story has over 500 hits! This is a new accomplishment for me, and I'm pretty proud. (Don't laugh at my low stats. I fail at life).

Remember! It's reviews that keep me motivated! They give me the confidence boost I need to keep writing this story! No reviews, no new chapters! I'll try to update sooner next time! School, ftw.

Seeya next chapter!


	9. Hazy Thoughts

_No Reply_

**Author's Notes**: …I. Am. So. Sorry. I. Don't. Update. Regularly. Like. I. Should. (facepalm) Somewhere along the line of this chapter, I started freakin' out because I was afraid I wasn't including Sora enough. Then I remembered that this is not Sora's story! It's Key's! Then I could no longer remember what I was bummed about. So, going back to the root of how this story was started, this entire chapter was written with no plot in mind. Yay! That way, even I am surprised with sudden changes. I'm totally dabbling in different styles too, soooooo….Yano. If you notice some inconsistency, that would be why. I'm also trying to find a way I can squeeze some first-person in here, but to no avail. Heck, I may just do an entire chapter in first-person for the heck of it.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Kingdom Hearts, or any of the characters/world associated with it. I do own Key though. So. Whatever.

* * *

_Chapter 9: Hazy Thoughts_

* * *

"_I'm naked!"_

_The boy isn't naked. He is aware of this, yet, can't stop the sentence as it rips away from his mouth._

"_I'm naked!" He screams again, stumbling drunkenly down a black street. It is framed with wide sidewalks. A line of people watch him: blank faces with blank stares._

"You're not naked." One person tries to tell him. A blank face speaking loudly. The boy is not convinced.

"_I'm naked!" he insists, throwing himself at the crowd, grabbing a fistful of shirt as if to prove its non-existence._

_He knows he is not naked, but he can't seem to help himself._

* * *

Sora kicked his seat. 

He felt it.

Heard it squeak.

He kicked it again.

And this time Key opened his eyes. He looked at Sora, a haze of sleep still distorting his vision. The boy opposite of him was looking up, trying to see out of the window. No light came from it. The train was still rumbling in hungry movement beneath him.

He felt the sudden urge to yawn when Sora's flicker of a gaze met his own. He kicked the seat again.

"Izzit mornin' yet…?"

Sora shrugged a reply.

"I dunno. It's still dark."

Key took this moment to sit up, looking once again around the train. He stretched his arms above his head, arching his back like a cat might. The lights flickered, though the train showed no signs of slowing to a halt. There were other passengers aboard now, but no more than two people to a seat. They all looked a bit worn, to Key, a bit worse for the wear. Dark clothing shoddily assembled, accenting their pale faces and almost bleached hair. Most of them had their heads down, reading a paper, staring at the floor. They wanted nothing to do with each other. Key blinked. He pulled his hood over his head, and sank back into the seat.

Sora only looked at him questioningly, but eventually did the same.

'He still sticks out like a sore thumb…' thought Key blankly, noting Sora's bright clothes. No matter, it could be fixed if needed.

The train pulled to a stop, squeaking in agony as the doors collapsed clumsily to form a ramp. Key watched as one of the blonde people stood. It was a woman. Her posture was impeccable, near perfect, despite this, her gaze was still fixed on the ground, her head bowed as if in mourning. Her porcelain face looked almost unearthly in perfection, her large, ghastly gray eyes and high cheekbones veiled by a thin lair of hair. How beautiful. Key was afraid to look at her.

Sora's foot against the leg of his seat brought him back to reality. He looked at the boy sitting across from him.

"We should get off soon…" murmured Sora, his gaze flicking awkwardly over the woman as she disembarked. Key could tell he felt awkward, could tell he felt very out of place.

Key nodded in agreement.

They waited for a stop where most of the other passengers would be leaving.

And soon, they disembarked. They received odd looks as they slid down the ramp on cautious tip-toe.

How strange this world was; all the denizens of this town were pale, blonde, and silent. Such an odd contrast to the shadowy world they resided in. Key felt like an unworthy comparison.

"They remind me of ghosts!" whispered Sora, hurriedly glancing around to make sure no one had heard him. No one did.

Key shrugged in agreement. He was right.

They shuffled down the street, following the tracks. There were so many back alleys and long buildings, that they were afraid of getting lost. Streetlights guided them.

Key was a near inch taller than the boy beside him, and he walked with his hands buckled around the straps on his bag. He was hungry. Judging by the way Sora was clutching his stomach, he suspected his companion was too.

"Let's find somewhere to eat." He murmured.

Sora agreed gratefully, tugging at his own hood. It still clung limply to the rest of his jacket by mere stitches.

Key rubbed at the back of his neck, feeling the disrupted skin between the fabric and his fingers. It was irritated; sometime during the night the wound had opened up again, and left a shadow of blood on the seat. He hoped no one would notice.

Sora didn't.

His bag slumped down his back, and he made no bother to adjust it. He tucked his bangs behind his ears, pulling his hood further down into his face. They kept getting strange looks. Blank looks from seemingly blank faces. He didn't know if it was because of their hair, or because of their skin, or because of their clothes, or if it was merely the fact that they seemed to be conversing. With each other.

He averted his gaze, looking at the ground and slowing his pace until he was a couple steps behind Sora.

He wondered briefly how Sora had gained back his confidence.

The boy kept looking back to him, and Key could tell he had concocted more questions to plague him with. Questions he would probably have a difficult time answering. He felt this back of his neck again. It itched.

Finally, Sora fell back to Key's pace.

"I need new clothes." He blatantly stated.

To Key's surprise, it wasn't an inquiry at all.

"But we need to eat first. I'm so hungry I could eat my own foot." He smiled broadly, and his conspicuous blue eyes wrinkled at the top of his cheeks. Key paid no mind, simple shrug.

* * *

It was a while before they found a restaurant (neither boys could read the language, and neither felt bold enough to ask the mute residents) by peeping in through a window. It wasn't crowded, but there were few people in there all the same. 

It was a bar, the air brimming with the smallest of chatter as the two sat on stools almost too tall for their reach.

A couple men sat behind them—laughing and talking and socializing not unlike people Sora was used to seeing. How strange that personality and atmosphere seemed to change so much indoors.

Then he almost made the mistake of pulling down his hood out of mere politeness, but Key stopped him with a sharp kick to the shin. He gave a scolding glare that made Sora automatically stop his actions.

When the waitress approached (an almost eerily unnatural smile in her teeth), Key simply asked what the special of the day was. Neither of them could read the menu—and neither knew what food in this world was like.

When she replied hamburger, Key ordered one with relief as did Sora. They didn't talk as they waited for the meal. Sora listened with interest to the men behind them.

Though the written language was immensely different, the spoken sounded almost exactly like English, aside from a few slang words and names he could make no sense of.

"I can't beeleeve how zeh Spectars have arrived, zo early in ze year! We have to be careful on ze outzide now."

"What're Spectres?" Sora mumbled to Key, but he merely shushed his friend and listened to the men, now interested.

The conversation continued, but there was no more mention of Spectres. Instead they talked of weather and business. Key sighed, but suspected that these "Spectres", whatever they were, had something to do with the voice taboo outside of buildings.

He turned to look at Sora, and it seemed that he was on the same train of thought.

They ate in silence. The hamburgers turned out to be made of ham, and not beef. It tasted strange, but good and filling.

In this world, apparently, they were old enough to drink. Sora refused to, and had excused himself to look for a clothing store.

"I stick out like a sore thumb!"

Which were Key's thoughts exactly.

The bright red pants that Sora wore were not as incognito as the two could have hoped, so he did not try to make him stay. He had faith that Sora could find his way back.

Meanwhile he swirled his drink around with a pointer finger, and the foamy texture was pleasantly warm. He took a swig, expecting a bitter taste, but instead getting something almost overwhelmingly sweet. He immediately felt a pleasant buzz.

Key didn't drink often, and had only gotten fall-down drunk once; he did not enjoy such a loss of control, nor did he enjoy vomiting all over himself. He pushed the half-empty cup away, watching the ring of condensation smear across the wooden counter. Immediately someone appeared in front of him; waving a pitcher in front of him and asking if he wanted a re-fill. It wasn't the waitress, but the bartender. Key recognized the woman immediately as the one from the train. She smiled at him, shaking the pitcher lightly again. He shook his head, watching the foamy concoction circle around the rim. She shrugged wiping the water smudge away with a ratty dishrag, then leaned onto the counter using her elbows to prop herself up. She looked at Key expectantly, so the boy took another gulp of the sweet drink before turning away.

"What?" he snapped.

She merely shrugged. "Just look like you have something on your mind, is all."

He mimicked her shrug, pushing the glass away. "Like I'd tell you, even if there was."

Ever since he met Sora, even if it was just a day or two ago, Key had become more talkative; he had gained some long-lost confidence—even if it did return in the form of sarcasm and snide remarks.

She sighed.

Key yawned; the drink had such a pleasant almost numbing side effect. His entire body felt warm, and he was beginning to feel mildly tired. He slumped onto the table, and heard the woman move from in front of him. He pulled his hood over his eyes; he'd take a nap only for a moment.

Then there was a tap on his shoulder. Assuming it was Sora, Key immediately sat up turning around to face his friend.

But it wasn't. It was the woman again. She untied her apron and slung it over the counter-top before sliding onto the stool next to him. He scoffed, reverting to the way he had formerly positioned himself; head in the cradle of his arms and the hood pulled over his eyes until the woman yanked it off. He sat up instantly, grabbing the hem of the hood to pull it back over his head but she stopped him by placing a firm grip on his fore-arm.

It was then that Key noticed there was no one else in the bar. The waitress was gone. The men had left.

He yanked his arm away from the woman, but left his hood down despite. He felt her stare fix on the keyhole and he ran his hands through his dark hair.

"You're not from here."

Key said nothing. He pulled the drink toward him again and took another grateful swig. The thick liquid engulfed his throat in comforting warmth. The foam tickled his lips.

"Nope." He finally replied in a sudden spontaneous urge not to lie.

The woman nodded, but Key didn't turn to look at her.

"Where is your friend? The one you were with on the Transport?"

Something about the way she said it made Key imagine the word 'transport' with a capitol "T". He placed an open palm over the mouth of his glass. She had remembered him.

"He's finding clothes." Key murmured. He felt the heat rising from the drink.

"You're still bleeding, were you aware? It's stained the back of your jacket." He glanced over to the woman.

"You should really seal that shut. It could get crossed or infected."

On closer inspection, Key saw that her eyes were actually a very light blue, not gray.

"Why…?"

"Because infections hurt, and being crossed is no fun either."

"No, I mean why are you even…?"

"Because you're different."

Key was muted by the statement alone.

"Not just physically." She added.

And this, for some unfathomable reason, made Key blush the lightest color of pink.

"I'm Byrea, by the way." She held out her hand for Key to shake, He didn't know if it was the drink making him act friendly, but he shook it warmly.

"I'm Key."

* * *

Chapter Notes: So, the dream at the beginning is TOTALLY the EXACT dream I had not too long ago. I thought it was so strange and weird I included it in the story. It kind of fits, neh? 

Again, though this entire thing was written on whim, I still sorta anticipated more reaction between Key and Sora. Oh well! It will happen! Maybe next chapter? Who can tell?

So, the reason for the sparse updates is because of school. Yah yah, so lame, but it's true.

This chapter seems a bit choppy and spazztic.

I'm hoping to let the boys wander around this world for a bit longer before making them move on.

Noticing a trend anyone?

First Anitta, now Byrea?

There's a reason they never make any guy friends—and it's because they don't have female friends! What will be Byrea's fate? Who knows.

What are Spectres?

Who knows.

What is going on! Who knows!

Thanks again to all the reviewers and favorite adds and stuff! I totally appreciate it! (confetti)

Remember! It's the reviews that motivate me and tell me what you think! Without that, how can I possibly mold this story to your, the reader's, liking? Simple! I can't!

Hope to see you again!

Sarah


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